Bookworm and the Beast
by JustRaeInc
Summary: It's the typical Head Boy and Head Girl setup. Good news though. While this story has all the makings of your standard, farfetched Hermione and Draco fan fic, it is devoid of the usual grammatical errors and poor writing. Yay. PreHBP. No spoilers
1. Letters and Silver Badges

**Disclaimer:** Although I would love to have all of her money, I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I own anything of hers. So yeah, I do not own Harry Potter etc, etc, etc...

**Rated R:** This story is rated R for language, insinuations, and sexual situations that will occur throughout the story. I'm sorry to say this to some of you, but this is not a written porno. I will have an actual plot. If you're just in it for the sex, move on and please don't read this fanfic and waste my time with some silly review, telling me that I don't have enough sex incorporated into the story. Thank you.

**Author's Note:** This is a romantic comedy. There will be laughter. There will be sex. There will be awkward moments. However, I'm keeping the sappiness to a complete minimum. If you've seen _The Notebook_, you'll know why.

And now, I proudly present the first chapter of _Bookworm and the Beast_... Lol. The title gets me every time...

**Chapter One: Letters and Silver Badges**

A triumphant shriek rent the air, rattling the windows and startling the three people who were lounging in the den of the Burrow. Ginny Weasley looked up from her copy of _Which Broomstick?_, her brows furrowed in bewilderment.

"What in bloody hell was that?" she asked.

Ronald Weasley simply shrugged and replied, "Sounded like a screaming banshee," before moving his queen. He grinned at his friend Harry Potter who was sitting across the chessboard.

"Checkmate! Lost again, Harry!" Ron cried.

Ron didn't have much time to gloat, however, for at that moment the screaming banshee came running into the room. It was Hermione Granger.

"You won't believe what just came for me in the mail!" she exclaimed, beaming at the three of them.

"A revised version of _Hogwarts, A History_ that includes house elves?" Ron suggested sarcastically.

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh.

"_No!_ I got that _ages_ ago... Oh fine, I'll just tell you." Her eyes lit up once again. "I just received my Head Girl badge!" she cried, holding up the silver badge for them to see.

"Congratulations, Hermione!" Harry said.

"Oh! Here, Harry," she said excitedly, handing him an envelope with the Hogwarts crest on it.

Harry just stared at it.

"Well! Open it! It's got to be you!" Hermione cried fervently.

She watched with bated breath as he tore open the envelope. There was no badge.

"Sorry, Hermione," he said as he read his usual school letter and looked over his supply list for his final year at Hogwarts.

Hermione looked a bit crestfallen but then turned to Ron.

"Here, Ron. You must have gotten it then," she said, although sounding skeptical.

Ron casually opened his envelope and pulled out the letter inside. His eyes suddenly widened.

"Bloody hell! I don't believe it!" he exclaimed.

"What! You got it!" Hermione shrieked.

Ron grinned, reading the letter.

"Not Head Boy! McGonagall made me Quidditch Captain, Harry!"

Harry grinned back at him.

"Way to go, mate," he said, clapping him on the back.

"McGonagall wants us to start coming up with plays and stuff now so that practices can start as soon as we get back-"

"_Excuse me!"_ Hermione bellowed.

Three pairs of eyes fell upon her. She took a deep, steadying breath.

"If you didn't get it, Harry... and Ron, _you_ didn't get it... then who's Head Boy!"

* * *

"Master Malfoy, sir. Master Malfoy's school mail has just arrived, sir," squeaked Belcher, the house elf, who bowed low to the ground and held out a silver tray with a letter placed neatly on top. 

"Thanks, Belch," said Draco Malfoy, retrieving the letter and watching the house elf scamper off.

"What is it, Drakey?" Pansy Parkinson called from the massive four-poster bed. Malfoy shrugged, tore open the envelope, and read the letter inside. He then pulled something small and silver out of the torn wreckage and stared at it.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered.

* * *

"I really think it's Ernie Macmillan. I mean, it _must_ be him-" 

"Give it up, Hermione!" Ron snapped impatiently as the four of them boarded the Hogwarts Express. Hermione had been asking them nonstop if they thought that Ernie Macmillan was indeed Head Boy. At first, Ron, Harry, and Ginny had teased her by suggesting that it was Neville Longbottom. But after a week of nagging, the three just wanted her to shut the fuck up.

They finally found an empty compartment, settled in, and waited for the train to depart. A couple of tense minutes filled with Hermione incessantly tapping her foot passed. At long last, the whistle blew and the Hogwarts Express pulled away from the station. To the relief of everyone, Hermione jumped up and left the compartment, leaving the three other occupants in peace.

Hermione walked briskly to the back of the train where she had been told to meet the Head Boy and commence the meeting with the Prefects. Coming to the last compartment, she peered through the glass and saw none other than Draco Malfoy.

_What is _he_ doing here?_ she thought, annoyed by the mere sight of him. She slid open the door and marched inside.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she asked coolly.

Malfoy smirked back at her.

"I'm Head Boy, Granger. Didn't you know?"

Hermione snorted.

"Very funny, Malfoy. Now _leave_," she ordered.

Malfoy stood up and slowly swaggered towards her.

"I don't think you understand," he drawled icily, coming closer as she backed away.

She felt a bit panicky when her back met the sliding door and Malfoy's face came ever closer. Suddenly, he brought an object so close to her face that she couldn't quite tell what it was. Shoving his hand away, she felt the bottom of her stomach drop out when she saw the silver Head Boy badge in his hand.

"That's right, Granger. _I'm _Head Boy," he said, sneering at Hermione's horrified expression.

"No... no, no, no! This is all wrong! It was supposed to be Harry! Or Ron! Or Ernie Macmillan! Even Neville would have been a good candidate! But not _you_!"

Malfoy backed away, his jaws clamped shut in anger.

"For once, Granger, I actually agree with you. I'm not exactly thrilled to be in this position. But this is only temporary, so you can wipe that melodramatic look of horror off your filthy mudblood face," he snarled.

For the briefest second, Hermione only glared at Malfoy. Then, quite unexpectedly, her fist came slamming into his nose. Through his tear-clouded vision, Malfoy saw her storm out of the compartment, the sliding glass door slamming behind her.

He sat back down and wiped the small trickle of blood that had begun to drip from his nose. Running his fingers over the assaulted organ, he was relieved to discover that it wasn't broken... but there would definitely be a bruise. A rusty chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned his head back against the seat and closed his already purpling eyes, the sight of a brown-eyed witch greeting him as he did so.

"Oh, fuck," Malfoy muttered for the second time in over a week.

* * *

Just moments after storming away from Malfoy, Hermione stormed back into the compartment where Harry, Ginny, and Ron were playing Exploding Snaps and collapsed with a huff onto the seat next to Ron. She didn't speak immediately. Instead, she glared out the window and took deep, calming breaths that only seemed to fuel the rage within. Noticing that the other three occupants had stopped in the middle of their game to stare at her, Hermione finally spoke. 

"_Malfoy_," she hissed, "_is Head Boy_."

Three jaws dropped simultaneously.

"My feelings exactly," Hermione replied, exhaling a shaky breath.

Harry was the first to awaken from a state of shock.

"Dumbledore chose Malfoy be to be Head Boy instead of me?" he cried angrily.

"I thought you didn't care about being Head Boy," Ginny commented, a sly grin on her face.

"That was before I knew Malfoy had gotten the position," he gritted out.

Harry's scowl quickly turned into a grin as Ginny moved closer and whispered something in his ear, nipping his earlobe as she moved away.

"At least wait until your own brother isn't any where near. Bloody hell. No common decency," Ron muttered irritably, staring at the couple sitting across from him with utter disgust. He turned his head and refocused his attention on Hermione. She was now reading her revised copy of _Hogwarts, A History_. It took a moment for Ron to realize that her knuckles were bleeding.

"Hermione, your hand's bleeding," he said, a bit alarmed. Hermione looked up.

"What?"

"Your _hand_ is _bleeding_," he repeated, grabbing his wand and conjuring bandages.

He asked her what had happened as he dressed the wound.

"Oh... I- I accidentally shut the door on my hand when I left the meeting."

Two rather disturbing realizations hit Hermione at that moment. One, she had lied to Ron. Two, being so upset over Malfoy, she had completely forgotten about meeting with the Prefects. Another disturbing thought rose up: What had happened at the meeting if Malfoy had been the only one there? Hermione cringed inwardly just thinking of the possibilities.

"All done," Ron said, already finished but still holding her hand in his.

"Thank you," she replied, smiling for the first time that day before returning to her book. His ears now a definite shade of red, Ron turned and found Harry and Ginny grinning at him.

"Oh, sod off," he grumbled, glowering back at them.

**End of Chapter Note: **For those who are a little iffed because this chapter wasn't bursting with romance between Hermione and Draco: (As J.K. Rowling has so cruelly posted on her website) _Patience is the key._


	2. Lions and Serpents and Draco Oh My!

**Author's Note:** Thank you for the reviews! (deep breaths) This chapter was a little difficult to write but still fun as always. I had to cover a lot of ground but not give away too much. The good news: The story is going to be moving a lot faster now that the first two chapters are out of the way. So those people who aren't quite hooked yet: Hang in there.

**Chapter Two: Lions and Serpents and Draco... Oh My!**

Hermione didn't see any sign of Malfoy as she got off the train- but she was shocked to see all the Prefects directing the first years towards Hagrid like they were supposed to. She couldn't believe it. Malfoy had actually been a responsible human being and told the Prefects their duties.

Feeling somewhat reassured, Hermione climbed into one of the thestral-drawn carriages with Ron, Harry, and Ginny. It wasn't until the Sorting ceremony that Hermione's sense of calm was shattered. As the crowd of first years began dwindling and were sorted into their houses, Hermione's attention had wandered towards the Slytherin table.

Her first mistake was even looking at Malfoy. The second mistake was not turning away when Malfoy had returned her stare with that self-satisfied smirk. Even with a swollen nose and blackening eyes, he appeared arrogant and rather pleased with himself. It was then that Hermione had yet another disturbing realization. Malfoy was going to rat her out. She had, after all, failed to complete her first task as Head Girl by not attending the first meeting with the Prefects.

Hermione began berating herself.

_Why did I let Malfoy goad me into punching him! If I had just kept my wits about me, I wouldn't have stormed off and missed my first meeting with the Prefects! And now, when we meet with Professor McGonagall after the Welcoming Feast, Malfoy's going to tell McGonagall everything!_

_And what had he meant when he said the situation was only temporary? Did he mean that he was going to renounce himself from the position of Head Boy? That's the only way he could have meant it. But he's going to wait until after he's ratted me out... that arrogant bas-_

"_Hermione!_" Harry rasped, kicking her foot.

Hermione was immediately thwarted from her musings to find the whole of the Great Hall staring at her.

"_Once again_," Dumbledore's voice rang through the silent hall, "Your Head Boy, Draco Malfoy!"

There was another scattered round of applause for Malfoy who sat down rather quickly.

"_And finally_," Dumbledore said with a smile, "Your Head Girl, Hermione Granger!"

Blushing furiously, Hermione stood and was greeted with a rather enthusiastic applause from her own table. She noticed Ginny giving her a curious glance as she sat back down and could only give her a helpless shrug in reply.

"_And now_," Dumbledore addressed the hall once more, "we eat!"

Immediately, the tables were filled with delicious foods, and everyone was scrambling to sample each dish... except Hermione who had lost her already waning appetite.

"What was _that_ all about?" Harry asked, stealing one of Ginny's treacle tarts.

"What was what all about?" Hermione asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"_You_ spacing out when Dumbledore was announcing you. He said your name and you just sat there," Ginny replied for Harry, stealing back her treacle tart.

Hermione nervously pushed food around her plate.

"I'm just so stressed about being Head Girl. I must have blanked out," she responded hastily, shoving her plate away.

"You aren't starting another protest for _spew_ are you?" Ron asked, indicating her untouched plate while piling more onto his.

"I'm not as hungry as I thought I was," she replied, her eyes once again returning to the Slytherin table, missing the odd glances she was receiving from her three companions.

As soon as Hermione's eyes landed on him, Malfoy abruptly left his table and strode arrogantly to the entrance of the Great Hall. His actions were explained in the very next moment when Professor McGonagall came bustling over.

"Miss Granger, follow me please," she ordered in her stern voice. Meeting Malfoy in the Entrance Hall, Hermione fell beside him as they followed McGonagall to her office.

Hermione snuck occasional side glances at Malfoy as they walked, knowing that in less than five minutes he would be telling McGonagall everything. _And reveling in the fact that he finally got Goody Good Granger in trouble_, Hermione thought viciously.

McGonagall shut the door behind them as they entered her office before ushering the two of them into seats at her massive desk. She then sat down in her own chair and stared at them intently over her nose-perched spectacles.

"How was the first meeting with the Prefects?" she inquired.

Hermione took a deep breath, about to reply when-

"Rather well, Professor. The first years did, after all, make it to the castle alive," Malfoy replied, a definite smugness about him.

"Thank you for that obvious deduction, Mr. Malfoy. But I meant in terms of how well the two of you worked together. Did any conflicts arise?" She stared pointedly at Malfoy's swollen nose.

"None at all, Professor," Malfoy said, a surprisingly innocent expression upon his face.

"And your nose, Mr. Malfoy. What happened there?" McGonagall asked rather suspiciously.

"I ran into a fist," he replied with a smirk.

"_Excuse me?"_

"Granger's fist, actually. But I assure you,Professor, that it was an accident."

McGonagall stared in wide-eyed disbelief at Hermione.

"_Is this true, Miss Granger_?"

Hermione was in such a state a shock over everything that had just transpired that it took a moment for her to reply.

"Yes, Professor," she said, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears.

"Very well," McGonagall said, regaining her composure. "I shall apprise you of your duties so that Mr. Malfoy may attend his nose.

"First matter to discuss is why you two were chosen. It has come to the attention of Headmaster Dumbledore that inter-house rivalry, specifically between Gryffindor and Slytherin, has reached its peak in these past few years. In an attempt to unite the school and put an end to the rivalry, Dumbledore felt that two leaders from the opposing houses could set an example for the rest of the school by working together.

"Therefore, along with your regular duties as Head Boy and Head Girl, the two of you will also be planning a special event. You will be in charge of hosting a costume ball to be held on Halloween night. All arrangements must be approved by myself, of course, or the Headmaster."

Hermione blinked.

"_Hosting _a costume ball? So, we'll have to-"

"You and Mr. Malfoy will be opening the ball, yes. As I said earlier, the Headmaster would like the two of you to set an example for the rest of the students. I must ask that you put aside your differences and be on the civilest of terms with one another- at least while among other students. Is that understood?" She eyed both of them sharply.

"Yes, Professor," they both muttered.

"Very, well. I shall issue further instruction at a later time. For now, I will show you to your new dormitories. Follow me, please," she ordered briskly.

Ten minutes later, Hermione found herself heading down a corridor that she had never explored in many of her earlier adventures with Harry and Ron. McGonagall stopped in front of a statue set in the wall, very similar to the gargoyle set at the entrance to Dumbledore's office... except this wasn't a gargoyle. Instead, there was a rather large lion raised up on its hind legs, claws raised and fangs glistening dangerously in the torchlight.

"Anguis Lea," McGonagall stated clearly. Hermione gasped as a green serpent slithered out of the lion's opened mouth and began wrapping it's body around the lion's shoulders and neck, covering it's golden mane. It's long body finally stopped coiling and the serpent's head came to rest above the lion's eyes.

"Well, that was pleasant, but where's the entrance?" Malfoy asked disgustedly.

"Perhaps behind the wooden door," Hermione answered airily.

"Beyond this door," McGonagall interrupted, "is your common room. Miss Granger, your room is to the left, and Mr. Malfoy, yours is to the right. Your trunks have all ready been sent up. If you have no questions, then I bid you good night, Miss Granger. Now, Mr. Malfoy, we may go see Madam Pomfrey about that nose."

And with that, McGonagall and Malfoy were gone, leaving Hermione all alone.

Without any further hesitation, Hermione walked past the statue, jumping as the snake hissed at her. Opening the door and rushing into her new common room, it took several moments for her eyes to absorb everything; from the two handsome mahogany desks situated on opposites sides of the room to the elegant tapestries on the walls and the silk threaded rugs scattered all over the floor. Although the floor and walls were of stone, the rest of the decor seemed to be a fusion of the two houses' colors, with green and red sofas adorned with silver or gold ornaments. It was the most luxurious room Hermione had ever seen in her life.

Excited to see to her own room, she hurried to her door and opened it. The first object that caught her eye was the large canopy bed placed against the opposite wall. It was quite feminine with its gold and crème pattern with dozens of satin pillows stacked on top. There was also a lovely antique wardrobe and a small desk underneath one of the tower windows.

The last thing Hermione noticed was a pair of French doors. Throwing them open, she discovered one of the largest bathrooms she had ever seen in her entire life. Every surface was covered in small blue and gold Venetian tiles.

Hermione didn't even notice the beautiful fountains and the many statues of Roman gods and goddesses placed around the perimeter of the room. Instead, her attention was focused on what seemed to be an empty swimming pool, also covered in the Venetian tiles. Surrounding the pool were at least a hundred golden taps.

Grinning eagerly, Hermione squatted down beside the edge and began testing every tap in reach. Of course, she wasn't at all unfamiliar with a bathtub such as this one. She had after all used the Prefect's bathroom many times. But this bathroom was much more luxurious… and she would have it all to herself.

Then with a plummeting feeling, she remembered Malfoy.

It was at that moment that Hermione looked up and saw the blonde haired Slytherin standing by his bedroom doors that also adjoined the bathroom. She noticed with some disappointment that his face was back to its normal, sneering state.

"Having fun?" Malfoy drawled.

Hermione stood up, returning his smirk with a cool stare.

"Malfoy," she began reluctantly, "Because we're going to be living in such close proximity, I think we should come to a truce. I suppose I could start by thanking you."

Malfoy looked taken aback.

"Thanking me? For what?"

"For not ratting me out to Professor McGonagall. And for taking care of the Prefects."

Malfoy's chuckle echoed across the tiled room.

"First of all, Granger, there was no Prefect's meeting."

It was Hermione's turn to look taken aback.

"But- then how did they know-"

"The Prefects took one look at me and ran for it. I'm sure they figured out what to do on their own. Besides, I really don't think the first years needed any assistance finding a half giant," Malfoy explained, leaning casually against the tiled wall.

"Why didn't you rat me out to McGonagall then? I seriously doubt that she believed your story about running into my fist."

Malfoy smirked.

"I have my reasons."

Hermione waited for further explanation but received none.

"Well, then. I suppose we should work out some sort of schedule for the bathroom. I prefer to bathe in the evenings, so you can bathe in the mornings-"

"But I also prefer to bathe in the evenings."

"Are you trying to be difficult?" she said shortly.

"No. I was merely stating my preference," he responded irritably, moving away from the wall and walking slowly towards her.

"As a gentleman, you should allow the woman to have her preference. Therefore, I will have the evenings, and you will have the mornings," she said resolutely.

"And what makes you think that I'm a gentleman?" Malfoy asked, now within arms reach.

"Well, with _your_ upbringing, I just assumed that-"

"My upbringing has also conditioned me not to take orders from mudbloods such as yourself," Malfoy bit out.

Once again, Hermione glared at Malfoy before taking a swing- but he had anticipated her actions and was now holding her fist in a painful grip.

"Understand _this_, Granger," he rasped, bringing her fist back down to her side. "I will not tolerate any more of your abusive behavior. And _I_ will have the bathroom during the evenings," he declared, dropping her hand and moving away.

"Why you arrogant, loathsome, despicable, pompous ass!" Hermione screeched, tears of outrage filling her eyes. "Let's get one thing clear, _Malfoy_," she snapped. "I shall refrain from resorting to any sort of _abusive behavior_ just as long as you refrain from calling me a mudblood. As for who gets the bathroom and when: _first come, first served_!"

Throwing him one last contemptuous glare, Hermione retreated to her bedchamber, slamming the door behind her.

Determined to block Malfoy from her mind, she started unpacking her trunk and organizing her room. Within half an hour, she had all her school robes and clothes hanging neatly in the wardrobe and all her books were aligned in alphabetical order along the windowsill above her desk. The incident with Malfoy, however, was still fresh in her mind.

Frustrated and exhausted, Hermione changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed only to lie awake pondering as to how she would ever be able to survive in the same dormitory with the wretched Draco Malfoy for the next ten months of her life. She didn't fall asleep for another three hours.

* * *

"She's a whiny, little bitch, and I hate her," Malfoy muttered. After the episode he had just had with Granger, he had gone to his former Slytherin common room to find his long time friend, Blaise Zabini, waiting for him. 

"She was bossing me around as if she were fucking royalty. She said that she just assumed with _my upbringing _that I would be the gentleman and let her have the bathroom whenever the hell she felt like it. That bushy haired, bossy, little bookworm! Does she not know who's she dealing with?"

Blaise casually studied his friend with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

"So then you called her a mudblood, for the second time today I might add, even though you don't even believe in all that pureblood horseshit anymore?"

"_She_ doesn't know that. Besides, it gets a rise out of her every time," Malfoy replied, smirking that self-satisfied smirk. He leaned his head back against the leather chair he was lounging in.

"You should see her all riled up. One month and she's mine," he stated cockily.

"But you _hate_ her-"

"And _she_ hates _me_, which is why I must have her," Malfoy reasoned.

Blaise chuckled.

"You're in way over your head, my friend. Don't tell me you're going to become All Noble Draco and make her fall in love with you."

Malfoy was overcome with disgust.

"I thought you knew me a hell of a lot better than _that_, Blaise. Besides, Granger is too smart for that method of approach."

"Well, then what's your big plan, Loverboy?"

"Simple. I'll be completely honest. I'm going to tell her that I want her, and then I am going to make myself irresistible. And finally, in about a month, she will be throwing herself at my feet."

"But you just said that she hates you."

"Which is why I said it will take a month rather than the week it usually takes for me to snare a woman."

Blaise quirked an eyebrow.

"Care to make a wager on that?" he offered.

Malfoy heaved a dramatic sigh.

"No thanks. I'm doing this for the simple pleasure of breaking Granger's spirit."

"And what if you lose your heart in the process?" Blaise said, peering intently over his glass of firewhisky.

Malfoy snorted.

"Blaise, you're becoming sentimental. Do you honestly believe me, Draco Malfoy, capable of loving another human being?"

Blaise swirled his firewhisky around and then raised his glass.

"To your next conquest."

Malfoy grinned and raised his glass as well.

"To my next conquest."

**Typical End of Chapter Note:** If I've succeeded in writing this chapter correctly, which hopefully is the case, you're probably puzzled about quite a few things after reading this chapter. Once again: _Patience is the key_.

Muahahahahahahaha! (cough)


	3. Hells Bells

**Author's Note:** As always, thanks for the awesome reviews! (sigh) Ok, go read.

**Chapter Three:** **Hells Bells**

Hermione had hoped to start her first day as Head Girl fully rested and ready for duty. Instead, she awoke her first morning with a pounding headache from lack of a full night's sleep. She crawled out of bed and smoothed her tangled hair from her face as she stumbled to the bathroom.

The sight that greeted her when she opened the door didn't ease Hermione's headache or her early morning grumpiness. Malfoy had just entered the bathroom. In her present state of irritation and sleepiness, Hermione couldn't sum up the energy to order him away, so she ignored him and proceeded to her sink.

Malfoy, although still a little groggy, couldn't help but grin as Hermione began brushing her teeth. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes were a bit puffy, and she was wearing overlarge flannel pajamas- and yet Malfoy still found her attractive. _Why_ he found her attractive in her sleepy condition, even _he_ didn't know.

"Not a morning person are you, Granger?" he joked.

Hermione was about to say something about not getting enough sleep last night- but then she remembered that Malfoy was the reason she had not gotten to sleep for three hours in the first place. Then she remembered the argument they'd had in the bathroom. Her brain rewound the whole day until she finally remembered their first encounter on the train _and_ what he had said. She spit out her toothpaste and began rinsing off her toothbrush.

"What exactly did you mean yesterday on the train when you said that the situation was only temporary?" Hermione asked rather abruptly.

Malfoy finished brushing his teeth.

"I had intended on renouncing myself from the position of Head Boy," he replied, applying shaving cream to his face.

"_Had_ intended? Does that mean that you are keeping the position?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"That's precisely what it means."

"But- but _why_?" she sputtered, flinging her toothbrush into the sink.

Malfoy shrugged.

"My desires have changed," he said simply, running the razor carefully along his strong jaw line.

Hermione rolled her eyes and started filling her rinsing cup with water.

"Oh, _excuse me_. What is your desire _now_?" she asked sarcastically, taking a sip of water and swishing it around in her mouth.

"You," he replied bluntly.

Hermione choked on a mouthful of water before spraying it all over the sink. Coughing into her towel, she turned to Malfoy and noticed, strangely for the first time that morning, that he was standing mere feet away from her and clad only in a pair of silky green boxers.

"Don't look so shocked, Granger. You've become a very attractive young woman, and I'm not the only one who's noticed," Malfoy said, drying his face with a towel.

Hermione was reeling.

"But you _hate_ me! How can you be attracted to someone that you hate?" she cried.

Malfoy contemplated himself in the mirror.

"_Hate_ is much too strong a word to describe what I feel for you, Granger. I simply tolerate your existence. And just to clarify," he said, finally turning away from the mirror, "I want your _body_. And a Malfoy, not to mention a Slytherin, always gets what he wants," he finished smugly.

Hermione's spine suddenly stiffened.

"I believe you're going to find it very difficult to get what you want once I've renounced myself from the Head Girl position! Because if _you_ aren't moving out, then _I_ am!" she declared.

Malfoy chuckled.

"I highly doubt that, Granger," he said, turning to leave. "I'm sure you've been dreaming of becoming Head Girl since you first set foot into Hogwarts. There's no chance in hell of you giving it all up now."

Hermione glared at Malfoy's retreating back as he sniggered and swaggered to his room, shutting the door behind him.

Tossing her towel to the floor, Hermione stormed to her room, making sure that both doors were locked before she changed into her school robes. She then began to furiously brush the tangles out of her hair while Malfoy's sneering face kept crossing her mind, taunting her.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast and joined Harry and Ron, making sure that she sat with her back facing the Slytherin table. Her best friends stared at her as she viciously attacked her porridge.

"Anything wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Nothing's wrong," she snapped, stabbing her sausage. "Why do you get the impression that something's wrong?"

"No reason," Harry replied hastily, staring fearfully at the knife in Hermione's hand.

"How was your first night with Malfoy? He didn't give you any trouble, did he?" Ron asked warily.

Hermione's silverware hit the table with a loud clang.

"No trouble. None at all," she snapped, tearing her toast into shreds.

Hermione's nerves settled down as the day went on. Luckily, none of her classes were with Slytherin that day, so she was able to focus on her schoolwork. By dinner, she was almost back to normal. In fact, once she had completed her homework and left the library later that evening, she was feeling quite capable of handling anything Malfoy threw her way. But then she returned to her dormitories.

It was almost time to start making the rounds. As Head Boy and Head Girl, Hermione and Malfoy were to patrol the halls from ten to eleven o'clock every night. Hermione set her books on her desk and looked around the common room. Malfoy wasn't there.

After waiting a few minutes, she went to Malfoy's door and knocked. There was no reply. She knocked once more before entering his room. It was bit larger than hers and much more masculine with the dark furniture and massive four-poster bed. Hermione noticed that it was unusually clean and organized. Wandering over to his desk, she discovered something rather unnerving. Just as she had done, Malfoy had aligned all his books along the windowsill in alphabetical order.

Backing away in alarm, Hermione jumped when she heard a tenor voice singing in Italian. It was coming from the bathroom. Why was Malfoy bathing right before they had to go patrol the halls! Realizing that it was ten o'clock, Hermione knocked impatiently on the bathroom door.

"Malfoy! We have to leave!" she yelled, pounding her fist on the door.

The voice grew louder.

"Malfoy! Did you hear me! We have to leave! For patrol! MALFOY!"

More singing.

A moment later, Hermione barged into the bathroom, finding Malfoy soaking in a bath and grinning at her.

"Care to join me, Granger?" he asked, spreading his arms in an invitation.

Hermione stomped her foot.

"DID YOU NOT HEAR ME POUNDING ON THE DOOR AND SCREAMING!"

"The door was unlocked,"Malfoy stated as if that had been the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why didn't you tell me that before!" Hermione fumed.

Malfoy smirked.

"I found it more entertaining to hear you scream my name over and over. Now I know what you'll sound like when I finally get you into bed," he said cockily, slowly standing up and climbing out of the water.

Blushing furiously, Hermione quickly turned around and stormed out of the bathroom- but not before catching a tasty glimpse of a very firm backside.

Hermione spent the next several minutes pacing the common room and fuming.

_The gall! The nerve! The sheer audacity! How dare he speak to me that way! I won't tolerate it! I simply _won't_ tolerate it!_

"Are you breaking in new shoes or trying to pace a hole through the ground?" Malfoy joked, his freshly cleaned face smirking as always. Hermione turned to leave the common room.

"Let's go. We're _late_," she hissed, striding out the door.

Malfoy followed her out.

"I cannot believe you!" she exclaimed once they had reached the main floor. "It's our first night of patrol, and you had to take a bath!"

"I didn't know we had to patrol. McGonagall never gave me a schedule," Malfoy said.

"That's because the schedule is already posted on our bulletin board," she snapped.

"We have a bulletin board?"

Hermione groaned in exasperation and quickened her pace.

"I really like you all riled up like this," Malfoy commented, eyeing her up and down. "It's extremely sexy-"

"That's it!" Hermione spun around and faced him, her eyes shooting daggers.

"You may _want_ me, Malfoy. And you may _think_ that you can have me. But there's only one, little problem: _I hate you_. I loathe the very ground you walk on. Unfortunately, we're stuck living with each other for the next year. All I ask is that you keep your distance and avoid me at all cost, as I will you. We have N.E.W.T.S. next semester, in case you didn't _notice_, and I will not be distracted by your hormonal antics!"

With that, Hermione quickly strode away, leaving a sneering Malfoy behind her.

* * *

A sense of calm and security settled over Hermione during the next week. Malfoy seemed to be following her wishes for they hadn't had a fight nor spoken a word to each other. Somehow they had silently agreed to be silent and had started going their own separate ways during patrols. With Malfoy out of the way, Hermione was finally living the 7th year at Hogwarts she had dreamed about. 

The silence, however, didn't last as long as Hermione had hoped it would. She had brought her homework back to the common room and was quite comfortable writing her Transfiguration essay on the sofa when in strolled Malfoy.

Thinking that he would continue on to his room, Hermione didn't even glance at Malfoy until she noticed with some discomfort that he was not going to his room. Instead, he sat on the opposite sofa and began pulling out some of his books.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, a bit alarmed.

"Relax, Granger," he drawled. "I'm just doing my homework."

Feeling too comfortable to move, Hermione decided to relax as suggested and continued writing her essay.

Although they were supposed to be studying, Hermione was finding that rather difficult to do when, after twenty minutes, the only thing Malfoy seemed to be studying was herself. Annoyed, she looked up and locked eyes with him.

"Did you need something, Malfoy?" she asked sarcastically.

"No," he replied, not taking his eyes off of her.

"Could you explain then why you feel it necessary to _stare_ at me?"

Malfoy grinned.

"I'm trying to undress you with my eyes."

Hermione slammed her book shut.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear the first time, Malfoy," she snapped. "I. Hate. You."

"You don't hate me, Granger. And even if you did, you would still find me attractive."

"I do _not_ find you attractive."

"Really? Why not?"

Hermione actually seemed to consider this.

"You swagger," she finally replied.

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow.

"I _what_?"

"You swagger. You know," she said, standing up and strutting back and forth in front of him. "You basically stick out your pelvis and strut around like a peacock. And I find that _very_ _unattractive_," she concluded, returning to her seat.

Malfoy was torn between amusement and indignation.

"Fine. You don't like my walk. But what about my looks? You can't deny that I'm extremely attractive," he stated arrogantly.

Hermione snorted.

"Oh, I _can_, and I _will_. Besides, I hate your hair."

"_What?"_ Malfoy exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"It's a bit too long, and you apply far too much gel to it. It's absolutely repulsive. See? I couldn't possibly be attracted to you," Hermione finished airily, returning to her essay.

"Kiss me."

Hermione's head shot up.

"_Excuse me_?"

"Kiss me and prove that you aren't attracted to me."

"I will do no such thing!"

"How about this, Granger? Kiss me, and if you can still say that you aren't attracted to me, I won't even bother pursuing you. Do we have a deal?"

Malfoy smirked and waited expectantly as Hermione set her essay aside, stood up and sauntered towards him. She stopped a mere foot away.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Malfoy," she drawled, "But I don't make deals with the devil."

Malfoy watched dejectedly as Hermione gathered up her books and went back to her room. Then he carelessly tossed his book aside and stormed out of the common room, heading to the one place where he knew he would find solace.

* * *

"How's it coming?" Blaise asked. "It's been a week. Any progress?" 

Malfoy collapsed in his chair.

"The woman was referring to me as the devil and insulting my hairstyle."

"That bad, eh?"

Malfoy shrugged.

"I still have three weeks left."

Blaise chuckled.

"Why do I get the feeling that you are totally fucked on this one, Malfoy?"

"Bite me."

**End of Chapter Comments:** I love Malfoy. He's such an ass. Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. For those of you who are pissed off because they haven't kissed yet: Look for the number four.

**Tootles!**


	4. Rainbows and Butterflies

**Author's Note:** I really like this chapter. It took me a while to write, but the end result is worth it. So go read... now!

**Chapter Four: Rainbows and Butterflies**

"The sheer audacity! Honestly, the man thinks he can have whatever he wants! He won't, however, be getting me!" Hermione declared vehemently.

Although Ginny had been riveted when she heard the news about Malfoy's new fixation on Hermione, she was now slightly less attentive after lying on Hermione's bed and hearing her vent for over an hour.

"Hermione, I've been listening to you go on and on for over an hour now, so may I say something?"

Hermione sighed.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to go on so long. Of course you can say something."

"I think you fancy Malfoy. Why else would you get so riled up like this?"

Hermione was outraged.

"How can you even _think_ that? That's absolutely insane! I could never be attracted to someone like- like- like _him_! He's vile! Despicable! Arrogant! The mere sight of him-"

"Shush!"

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I didn't mean to start up again-"

"No, not that. Shhh! Listen. Do you hear that?" Ginny had sat up on the bed and was frozen in place, listening carefully.

"I don't hear anything," Hermione said.

"It's a constant thud. Don't you hear it?" Ginny said.

She began tapping her finger to the rhythmic thudding. That's when Hermione finally heard it. It was steadily growing louder and faster.

"I think it's coming from the common room," Hermione whispered.

Ginny crawled off the bed and made her way across the room. She slowly creaked the door open.

"There's no one out there," she said.

Hermione followed her out to the common room.

"Where's it coming from?" Hermione asked, the thudding even louder than before.

"Oh my god," Ginny whispered, staring in the direction of Malfoy's room.

"What?" Hermione whispered back.

But then she heard a low moan coming from the same source of the rhythmic thudding. Her eyes snapped to Malfoy's door.

"He's not-"

"Oh, yes he is," Ginny finished for her.

Grinning mischievously, Ginny quickly tiptoed to Malfoy's door.

"_Ginny! What are you doing?"_ Hermione hissed.

Ginny's grin only grew wider as she pressed her ear to the door. Her mouth opened in shock and she started silently giggling.

Convincing herself that she only wanted to drag Ginny away from the door and not eavesdrop on Malfoy having sex, Hermione crept towards Ginny and started beckoning her to back away.

Suddenly, Ginny's jaw dropped, and her expression froze in a state of awe. Giving in to curiosity, Hermione hurried over and pressed her ear to the door. What she heard made her jaw drop as well.

Moans of pleasure reached Hermione's ears causing a tumultuous wave of emotions to rush through her. Among disgust, shock, and anger was a very unfamiliar, twisted sort of fury. _Who_ was moaning with pleasure in Malfoy's arms? Who was giving _him_ the same pleasure?

Suddenly, there was a stirring of bodies and clothing coming from within Malfoy's room. Her fury set aside for the moment (but certainly not forgotten), Hermione and Ginny scurried as quickly and as silently as possible back to Hermione's room. Leaving a slight crack in the door, the two girls watched Malfoy step out of his room to be followed by-

_Pansy!_ Hermione raged. _But then again, why wouldn't Malfoy want her!_ she thought bitterly. _A Slytherin! A Blonde! A Slut! How can a man want her and me at the same time! How revolting!_

Still fuming, Hermione watched the lovers kiss and fondle each other one last time before Pansy bid Malfoy adieu and scampered off. Meanwhile, Malfoy, clad in a silky green dressing robe, went to stand before the fireplace.

"Well, I guess I'll be going then," Ginny whispered as she opened the door.

Malfoy looked up just in time to see Hermione emerging from her room right behind Ginny.

"Later, Hermione," Ginny said, quirking an eyebrow at Malfoy as she left.

He stared curiously after her before settling his gaze on Hermione's furious expression.

"Someone stick a wand up your ass, Granger?" Malfoy drawled.

"N-No!" she sputtered, completely taken aback by his crudeness.

"Then why are you staring daggers at me?" he asked.

"Because _you _were having _sex_!" Hermione hissed, not fully believing that she was having this conversation.

"And?" Malfoy replied, looking nonplussed.

"_And- _I don't appreciate you doing _that_ while I'm _here_!"

A hint of a smirk graced Malfoy's lips.

"Jealous, Granger?"

"Of course not!" she snapped. She took a steadying breath. "I just don't appreciate _that sort of_ _behavior_. I find it quite repulsive, and I would prefer that you do _it_ somewhere else because I refuse to live in a brothel!"

Hearing silence, Malfoy stopped studying his manicured nails and looked up at Hermione expectantly.

"Is that all? Because I'd really like to take a bath now-"

"Why did you sleep with Pansy?" she asked suddenly.

Malfoy now had a full smirk on his face.

"For one thing, she has a nice ass, and her breasts-"

"That's not what I meant!" Hermione interjected. "I mean, how could you possibly sleep with her when- I mean, you said you want me, so-"

"How could I sleep with Pansy even though I'm pursuing you?" Malfoy provided.

Hermione blushed.

"Well- yes,"she said matter-of-factly, raising her chin defiantly.

Malfoy chuckled.

"This isn't a romantic courtship, Granger. I was horny. You weren't available, so I called on the next best thing," he explained casually.

Hermione was rooted to the spot with fury as Malfoy strutted back into his room and into the bathroom to his awaiting bath.

* * *

"_You said that_?" Blaise asked incredulously later that night. 

"Yes," Malfoy answered bitterly.

Blaise sniggered.

"You certainly know how to charm the ladies."

Malfoy glared at him.

"It's _her_ fault. She's so pissy every time I see her," he complained.

"I'm sure asking her if she has a wand stuck up her ass doesn't exactly thrill her," Blaise replied sarcastically.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Think about it, mate," Blaise said. "You don't have to give up being the senseless prick you are, but acting a bit friendlier towards the little bookworm wouldn't hurt the situation," he reasoned.

Malfoy heaved a dramatic sigh.

"Fine. I'll give the _friendly_ approach a try," he bit out reluctantly.

Blaise smirked.

"This should be good."

* * *

Hermione was still upset by lunch the next day and decided to study in the library. As she scanned the shelves for books, she slowly began to relax. She loved the library. It was quiet and organized and always made her feel calm. 

Dragging her finger along the shelf, she stopped at a rather large leather-bound book. Reading the title and growing curious, she had just started pulling it off the shelf when-

"Hello, Granger."

Hermione jumped out of fright and accidentally dropped the book, which fell to the ground with a loud thump at Malfoy's feet. Madam Pince immediately came charging around the corner.

"_What was that noise?"_ Madam Pince whispered furiously.

Malfoy bent over and effortlessly picked up the large leather-bound book.

"I accidentally dropped this," he replied.

"_Please handle the books a bit more carefully_," she snapped.

Eyeing them both menacingly, she marched away with her nose in the air and disappeared around the corner.

Heaving the book out of Malfoy's arms, Hermione replaced it on the shelf and stood glaring at him.

"What is it this time, Malfoy? Have you come to insult me or to try and seduce me? Because I won't stand for either."

Malfoy casually leaned his shoulder against the shelf.

"_Try_ and seduce? Sorry Granger, but I don't _try_."

Hermione groaned and started to walk off, but Malfoy grabbed her arm.

"One kiss, Granger. One kiss and I will never bother you again."

"Care to put that in writing and sign it in blood?" she said, smirking.

"Funny, Granger. Are you going to kiss me or not?"

Hermione couldn't keep the devious smile off her face.

"I think... not," she replied airily, dancing out of his reach.

"You're scared."

Hermione slowly turned around.

"_Really_? Scared of _what_, exactly?"

"You're scared of kissing me because you know you want me," he stated all-knowingly.

"I'm _not_ scared, and for the last time, I'm _not_ attracted to you."

"Prove it then. Prove that you aren't attracted to me."

Hermione had a moment of indecision before deciding to get it over with.

"Oh fine," she said, completely exasperated.

Looking to make sure no one was around, she hastily pecked Malfoy on the lips, immediately rubbing her mouth on the back of her hand afterwards. She folded her arms and stared regally back at him.

"There, I did it. Satisfied?"

Malfoy looked disgusted.

"You call _that_ a kiss?"

Malfoy grabbed Hermione by the elbow and began steering her past rows and rows of books. Soon they had reached the farthest corner of the library in the Muggle History section, where hardly anyone ever ventured.

Hermione was slightly out of breath when Malfoy finally stopped and turned towards her, forcing her to back into the shelves.

"Why'd you drag me back here?" she snapped.

"So I can show you how to kiss properly," Malfoy replied huskily.

"Kiss properly? But I-"

Hermione forgot what she was going to say as Malfoy's lips came crashing down on hers in an almost bruising kiss. Torn between shock, outrage, and pain, Hermione tore her mouth away from his and lifted her palms to his chest to push him away. But the feel of his heart pounding rapidly beneath her hand stopped her.

Hearing his ragged breathing, Hermione slowly raised her gaze from his chest and found his eyes. Usually cold and gray, they were now liquid pools of silver. His heated gaze held hers before traveling slowly down to her lips. Hermione suddenly felt reckless. She stepped closer, this time welcoming his kiss.

His lips moved passionately against hers, and once again, Hermione felt her back press against the shelves as Malfoy pressed his body against hers. Somehow wanting to feel more of him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and fitted herself to the lean contours of his body. She gasped when she felt his tongue touch her lips, granting him full access to her mouth. The bold and intimate caress of his tongue against hers shocked Hermione.

She immediately broke the kiss, catching Malfoy off guard as she pushed him away. Lifting her hand to her mouth, she felt her swollen lips, staring at Malfoy all the while as if he had burned her with his searing kiss. She gained small satisfaction in the fact that Malfoy looked just as unsettled.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and snapping both of them out of their trance. Hermione turned and ran, not looking back and trying not to think about what had just happened.

Unfortunately, it was all she _could_ think about during her afternoon classes. She didn't raise her hand at all during Transfiguration, nor during Charms, which worried Ron and Harry tremendously. They snuck furtive glances at her and exchanged worried expressions, all the while not knowing the turmoil unraveling in Hermione's brain.

What ungodly force had come over her? Everything had happened so fast and had seemed so surreal; Hermione could hardly differentiate it from a dream...

_More like a nightmare!_ she thought vehemently. What was she supposed to do now? After that kiss, Malfoy would be even more zealous in his attempt to seduce her. And now that he had succeeded in kissing her, Hermione wasn't so sure she would be able to resist if he tried to do so again...

Hermione skipped dinner that night, her feet automatically leading her to the library. Realizing where she was going, she stopped and turned in the opposite direction. Damn Malfoy. The one place where she could find solace, and he had to contaminate it.

Resigning herself to the depressing idea of spending the night studying in her room alone, Hermione set off towards her dormitories. Not wanting to think about any of the day's events, she tried forcing every thought from her mind, which only gave her a pounding headache. Finally, she broke the pathetic dam holding the thoughts back and let them wash through her.

She could once again feel Malfoy's body against her. She remembered every detail of the kiss... the feel of his lips... the taste... So wrapped up in the memory, she didn't hear Ron calling her name until he was right beside her.

"Hermione!" Ron practically yelled, startling her.

"Are you growing deaf?" he asked jokingly.

Blushing furiously, Hermione fished around for a plausible excuse.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I was just thinking about N.E.W.T.S. and- and how they will basically determine the rest of my life. You know, that sort of thing," she finished lamely.

Ron threw her a nervous glance.

"Yeah. Me and Harry have been kind of worried about you. We think you're over-working yourself." He cleared his throat. "But that's not why I came to talk to you."

"It's not?"

"No. I actually wanted to- er- to talk to you about the- er- Willyougotothecostumeballwithme?"

"What?"

Ron laughed nervously and took a deep breath.

"Hermione, will you go the costume ball... with me?"

Hermione said the first thing that came to her stunned mind.

"Yes," she replied faintly.

Ron beamed at her ecstatically, his ears turning scarlet.

"Really? I mean, bloody hell! Thanks!" he exclaimed stupidly.

Hermione was about to say something along the lines of "No problem" but didn't get the chance as Ron leaned in and kissed her. Unlike Malfoy's kiss, Ron's was soft and slobbery and over before Hermione knew what was happening.

Ron pulled his face away from hers and just stood there staring dreamily back at her.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, grinning happily.

Hermione plastered a fake smile on her face.

"I'll see you later then," he said wistfully.

Hermione nodded her head absently as Ron trotted off, grinning back at her once before turning a corner.

* * *

Malfoy sat in the common room and swirled a bottle of firewhisky in his hands, watching the flames from the fire play against the amber liquid. He was suddenly reminded of a pair of eyes... the same golden eyes that had haunted him since the train ride to Hogwarts. 

Resting his head back against the sofa, Malfoy sighed and recalled the way he had lost control looking into those eyes. He didn't like it. He didn't like not having control. He didn't like the way his body responded to her mere presence. Never had a single kiss affected him so much. He was now determined to have her...

At that moment, Malfoy's prey entered the common room. Expecting her to rush to her room in order to avoid him, he was shocked to see her plop down on the sofa across from him instead. He was even more shocked when she didn't scold him for having liquor in the common room. He almost felt concerned when she continued to stare straight ahead as if in a daze.

"Granger, you're scaring me. What? Did you fail an exam?"

Hermione burst into tears.

"Bloody hell, Granger. I was just joking."

She continued to cry.

"Aren't you going to yell at me for having firewhisky?"

She started to sob loudly. Malfoy shifted uncomfortably.

"Do you want to- er- talk about it?"

Hermione shook her head and continued to sob.

Thinking that she might be suffering from extreme mood swings, Malfoy stood up and cautiously edged towards her. He then offered her the bottle of firewhisky. Hermione grabbed it greedily and took an enormous gulp. Malfoy watched as she coughed furiously after choking on the strong liquor.

"Jesus, Granger. What's wrong with you?" he asked, dying to hear what could have unglued the uptight bookworm to this extent.

"Everything!" she sobbed, taking another swig and coughing some more.

Malfoy waited expectantly.

"Could you be a bit more general, Granger? I don't think I'm grasping the bigger picture here," he joked sarcastically.

Hermione did something that she had never done in Malfoy's presence. She laughed. However, after taking another large gulp of firewhisky, she started sobbing again.

"This was supposed to be my year!" she whined. She took another long gulp and then continued.

"I could handle N.E.W.T.S. I could handle being Head Girl. But then _you_ happened! And then that _kiss_ happened! And then _Ron_ happened!"

"Weasle? What happened with Weasle?" Malfoy asked sharply.

Hermione was now growing quite fond of the taste of firewhisky and downed another mouthful.

"After six years of waiting and bickering, Ron chose today of all days to ask me to the costume ball. Right out of the blue! He just came up and asked me out of nowhere. And then _he _kissed me! And it wasn't anything like yours! Your kiss was just..."

Hermione slowly slid down on the sofa and sighed.

"...you know? But Ron's kiss was... I dunno. I mean, I don't have a brother, but if I _did_ have a brother, it would be like kissing _him_. It was wrong," she whimpered, taking another sip.

"But that's not right!" she suddenly exclaimed. "It was supposed to be Harry and Ginny! And then me and Ron! Not me and you! No! I'm supposed to be attracted to Ron! Not my worst enemy!"

A lot of firewhisky later...

"Let me see if I'm fully comprehending what you've been babbling on about," Malfoy drawled. "You had this fairytale notion that, in the end, Potter and Little Weasle would fall in love. And then, you and Big Weasle would fall in love and that the four of you would live happily ever after in a big one-room house. However, when Big Weasle finally made his move, it wasn't all rainbows and butterflies like you had expected. And to complicate matters further, you're attracted to me."

"Exactly," Hermione said brightly. She gasped. "I just realized something!"

"What?" Malfoy asked, grinning.

Hermione stumbled over to his couch, plopped down beside him, and motioned him to come close as if she were a three-year-old wanting to tell a secret.

"I just realized... I shouldn't be telling you _any_ of this," she whispered, giggling.

Malfoy chuckled and leaned in closer.

"Don't worry, Granger. You're secret's safe with me," he said with mock gravity, placing a hand over his heart.

Hermione snorted and went into another fit of giggles.

"Malfoy, I don't trust you any farther than I can drop you. No wait- any farther than I can kick you! No- strangle you! Wait- what was I saying?" Hermione mumbled, her speech starting to slur.

"You don't trust me," Malfoy provided.

"That's right! And I shouldn't! You are a _very bad boy_! You're extremely rude too! I don't like the way you organize your books the same way I do! And I don't like how you make me feel!"

Malfoy didn't like what sitting close to her was doing to his body.

"How do you feel?" he asked hoarsely.

Hermione's bleary eyes looked into his.

"You make me feel restless... No, relentless... Oh, what's the word? Like dangerous or something..."

"Reckless? Rebellious?"

Hermione looked pensive.

"I think I meant the first one you said, but I'll take both," she replied.

Malfoy actually laughed.

"So I make you feel reckless and rebellious?" he asked, his laughter subsiding.

"Yes... and then I want to..."

"Want to what?" he asked leaning closer.

"I want to kiss you... even though I shouldn't..."

Malfoy stroked her cheek.

"Why shouldn't you?" he murmured.

Between drunkenness and the wild sensations Malfoy was giving her as he dragged his thumb across her bottom lip, Hermione couldn't possibly think.

"I can't remember," she whispered faintly.

Malfoy pulled her to him.

"Perhaps this will jog your memory," he rasped, kissing her hungrily.

Hermione melted against him and responded quite eagerly to his kiss. Malfoy soon had her lying beneath him on the long sofa...

_It would be so easy to take her now_, he thought. His kissed turned more feverish. He wanted her bad enough to take her then and there.

_It would be so easy..._

Malfoy tore his mouth away from hers and slowly pulled both of them up to a sitting position. He could do a hell a lot better than this...

Hermione didn't seem to notice that they had stopped kissing... or that they had been kissing. She yawned very loudly and leaned her head against Malfoy's shoulder.

"I'm sleepy," she murmured tiredly.

Malfoy stood up.

"Come on, Granger," he said, pulling her up.

Hermione stumbled forward into his arms. Realizing that she couldn't walk, Malfoy picked her up and carried her to her room.

He placed her on the bed and debated on whether or not to change her into nightclothes. Although he thought it would be hilarious to see Hermione's expression when she woke up and realized that _he_ had changed her, his pride decided against it.

So he settled on taking off her school robes and shoes. Leaving her in a plain gray, pleated skirt, a white blouse, and matching gray socks, Malfoy lifted her up just enough to get her under the sheets. Her eyes blinked open in the process.

"What are you doing?" she asked groggily.

"I'm tucking you into bed... as fucked up as that is," he replied, bringing the covers up to her chin and stepping away.

"You said the 'f' word," she pouted.

"Go to sleep, Granger."

Hermione rolled on her side, facing him.

"I still hate your hair," she murmured defiantly before passing out.

* * *

"So?" 

"So what?"

"So what happened next?" Blaise snapped impatiently.

"Nothing," Malfoy replied.

"_Nothing?_ _Granger was all over you and you didn't shag her senseless right then and there?" _

"She was drunk!" Malfoy protested.

Blaise was shocked.

"I can't believe it. You've gone soft!"

"No, I haven't!"

"Oh, yes you have, Mr. Softie!"

Malfoy glared at him.

"Blaise, the only reason I didn't shag Granger senseless tonight was a matter of pride. When I finally get that little bookworm in my bed, she'll be _sober_ and _willing_."

Blaise looked skeptical.

"So you _not_ shagging her senseless had nothing to do with you _not_ wanting to take advantage of a drunken woman? Because you _never_ had a problem with it before-"

"They were prostitutes! _And_ I paid them afterwards!" Malfoy yelled defensively.

Blaise raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Whatever you say, ol' chap. You know, I'm actually surprised Granger didn't pass out sooner. From what you've told me, she drank a lot of firewhisky. Come to think of it, I'm surprised she drank at all."

"Weasle _finally_ made his move. She was hysterical."

"Well that complicates things a bit for you, doesn't it?"

Malfoy laughed.

"Weasle is no threat, I assure you. She said it was like kissing her brother. Besides, she wants _me_. She said so herself. _That's_ why she was so upset. It's only a matter of time now," Malfoy said confidently, sighing in a self-satisfied manner.

Blaise lazily flicked a piece of imaginary lint off his robes.

"There's only two weeks left of September," he stated casually.

Malfoy smirked.

"I have to admit that I was a bit worried after the first week."

"No! You? The most arrogant son of a bitch alive?" Blaise joked.

"'Tis true, my friend," Malfoy conceded. "My confidence failed me. But now I know Granger wants me, so there's nothing in my way."

"Except Granger. I dunno, Mr. Softie. Drunk might be the only way you _can_ have her."

"Fuck off, Zabi."

**End of Chapter Note: **Ok, my original nickname for Blaise was Zambi… it was the wee hours of the morning and that's what came to me. But now I've changed it to Zabi because I everyone thinks that I think that Blaise's surname is Zambini and not Zabini… So just to clear up confusion, I changed it. Moving on…


	5. Once Upon a Dream

**Author's Note:**I have an awesome idea. I'll go sleep... and you can read this chapter! Woo hoo! _I know you/ I've walked with you..._

**Chapter Five:** **Once Upon a Dream**

_She was in Draco's arms, and he was kissing her... his hands wandered aimlessly all over her body, but she couldn't stop him... she didn't want to stop him. Suddenly she was alone in the dark and before her was an enormous green dragon with piercing gray eyes that leered at her through the darkness. The dragon breathed flames at her... she turned to run and saw Ron jogging towards her in slow motion, lips puckered and an array of rainbows and butterflies surrounding him. She turned back and ran towards the fearsome dragon..._

_She could feel the heat from the flames but still ran on until she was once again standing before the scaly beast. It breathed fire... only this time the flames were almost like a white, blinding light..._

Hermione woke up shivering. Sunlight seemed to be pouring into her room from all directions. Momentarily blind, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and slowly stood up, causing a wave of dizziness and pain to crash through her head.

Memories from the previous day slowly came back to her. She remembered Malfoy kissing her in the library... Ron kissing her in the corridor... Malfoy sitting in the common room... a bottle of firewhisky... After that, her mind drew a blank. Not wanting to think about what could have possibly happened the previous night, Hermione looked at the clock to see how much time she had to get ready for class- and nearly passed out. Class started in ten minutes.

Heart hammering and head pounding, Hermione just threw her school robes on and searched frantically for her shoes, cursing Malfoy under her breath as she went. Finally finding her shoes and putting them on, she went to her nightstand to get her brush. Realizing that she didn't have time to brush her hair, Hermione grabbed a hair tie and gathered the wild mass into a messy bun.

She ran to the bathroom, frantically brushed her teeth, splashed some water on her face, and hastily dried off with a hand towel. Grabbing her book bag, she ran as fast as her non-athletic body could carry her out of her dormitories, through the castle corridors, and down the many staircases towards her first class of the day: Potions.

She had just reached the marble staircase to the Entrance Hall when the final bell rang. Hermione didn't even bother snapping at a group of third years, who were lingering on the stairs.

By the time she finally made it down to the dungeons, Hermione was in worse shape then when she had first woken up from the nightmare just twenty minutes prior. Coming to a stop at the door to Snape's classroom, Hermione nervously tucked away the loose hairs that had fallen around her face and straightened her clothing. Blushing furiously, she entered the classroom and felt about twenty pairs of eyes turn on her.

"How thoughtful of you to join us, Miss Granger," Snape drawled icily from the front of the classroom. A couple of Slytherins sniggered.

"I apologize for being late, Professor," Hermione said, avoiding a pair of gray eyes that seemed to be boring a hole into her.

"Apology accepted," Snape replied, his evil eyes shining.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and started towards her seat. She _knew_ Snape wasn't as terrible as Harry and Ron made him out to be. With small satisfaction, she threw a smirk at the both of their stunned faces, wondering what they could possibly have to say to _this_.

"Of course, apology or no apology," Snape began, bringing Hermione to a halt. "That will be twenty points from Gryffindor... and a detention," he concluded nastily.

More sniggers erupted from the Slytherins, drowning out the few groans from some of the Gryffindors... Ron and Harry included.

Hermione kept her chin high as she proceeded to her desk. She was just about to sit down next to Neville when-

"Actually, Miss Granger, I would prefer it if you would sit with Malfoy. Miss Parkinson will be Longbottom's partner today."

She heard Neville yelp as she turned away and walked back across the classroom. Wondering if the day could possibly get any worse, Hermione was positively fuming by the time she had sat down next to Malfoy and class had proceeded. Ignoring the gray-eyed Slytherin git, she instead focused on retrieving the ingredients that were listed on the board.

"Good morning, Granger," Malfoy said almost cheerfully.

"That's a matter of opinion," she snapped, chopping a toad liver in half.

Chuckling, Malfoy studied her profile and noticed a few loose strands had escaped and were now fluttering around her cheeks. He reached out to tuck them behind her ear. Hermione jumped when she felt his fingers brush her cheek.

"_What are you doing?"_ she whispered furiously, slapping his hand away. He grinned at her.

"I was just trying to get that bushy hair out of your face." Hermione hastily tucked the loose hair behind her ears and continued working.

"Nothing happened last night, Granger."

She glared at him.

"Really? And how am I supposed to believe _that_?"

"Believe what you want to believe, but I actually _remember_."

Hermione sniffed and went back to chopping toad liver.

"You _swear_ nothing happened?" she asked. He smiled slightly.

"Well... maybe not _nothing_. We might have fooled around a bit-"

"_What do you mean fooled around!"_ she hissed.

"We might have... _kissed_ or something-"

"_What!"_

"Look, Granger. It was nothing. You were drunk. We kissed for a while, and then I stopped before it got too serious. There's no need for a hissy fit," Malfoy said irritably. Although she was furious, Hermione somehow believed him.

"You're still a bastard for getting me drunk," she whispered.

"I don't remember forcing you to drink," he bit out.

"I was distraught! And you took advantage of me in my emotional state!"

"Sod off, Granger," Malfoy mumbled, turning away to measure out bat droppings. For the first time that morning, Hermione actually looked at Malfoy. There was something... _different_ about him... Throwing him occasional side-glances, she finally figured out what it was.

"You changed your hair," she commented. Malfoy shrugged.

"Just a trim," he said nonchalantly. Hermione begged to differ. It was more than a trim. His hair was now much shorter than it used to be, and there was no more gel. She could almost think of him as being charmingly handsome. But he was still an ass, she declared to herself.

"Of course, changing your hair doesn't make you attractive," Hermione stated airily. Malfoy chuckled.

"Really? That's not what you told me last night," he replied, grinning. Hermione became very tense and leaned in a bit closer to him.

"What exactly _did_ I tell you last night?" she whispered nervously, her eyes darting around the room, making sure no one was listening in.

"Sorry. I promised you I wouldn't tell," Malfoy responded, his eyes sparkling deviously. Hermione straightened up and began toying with her cutting knife, running her finger dangerously close to the edge as if testing its sharpness.

"Malfoy, I was late for class this morning, got a detention, lost Gryffindor 20 points, got partnered with _you_, _and_ I have a splitting headache. _Do not tempt me_," she warned, unconsciously pointing the knife at him. Malfoy almost looked impressed.

"Now now, Granger. We're supposed to be civil to one another when around our fellow pupils. I really don't think threatening me with a knife in the middle of Potions is setting a good example," he joked. Hermione hastily replaced the knife on the table and glared at him.

"Don'tpretend tocare about your duties," she snapped, adding a few drops of snake venom to the cauldron.

"Oh, but I _do_ care," he said with mock sincerity. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What did I say to you last night?" she asked again.

"Would you like it verbatim? Because that might take a while..."

"The gist of it would be fine."

Malfoy sighed regretfully.

"I can't tell you."

"Funny, Malfoy. I'm sure you can break the one promise you made to me."

"It's not that. I can't tell you _right now_."

"Why not?" she snapped.

"Snape's right behind you."

Hermione whipped around to find Snape staring down his long greasy nose at her.

"Another five points from Gryffindor for your incessant chatting, Miss Granger. Get back to work," he ordered, his black robes billowing sinisterly after him as he strode away.

Unless Hermione had something to say regarding the potion they were making, she completely ignored Malfoy for the remainder of class. When the bell finally rang for break, she grabbed her bag and was almost to the door when-

"Your detention, Miss Granger!" Snape called from the head of the classroom. Hermione took deep, calming breaths.

"We'll be outside, Mione," Harry called before he and Ron left.

Walking slowly to the front of the classroom, Hermione passed Malfoy, who was still packing up his things. Snape kept her waiting as he organized his desk. After shuffling some papers, he finally looked up.

"Ah, yes. Miss Granger. You will report to my office at no later than seven o'clock. I will have a task for you. That will be all," he said dismissively. Hermione turned and hurried to the door, passing a smirking Malfoy, who followed her out.

"Oy! Granger!" he called.

"What now!" she yelled, completely exasperated. Malfoy caught up with her.

"You were in such a hurry to get out of there..." he began, holding out her favorite eagle feather quill.

"Thank you," she said hastily, reaching out to grab it. Malfoy pulled his hand away.

"You know, I'm performing an act of kindness by returning this to you. Don't I get some sort of reward for that?" he asked innocently.

"Malfoy, if you think I'm going to kiss you again-"

"I'll tell you what. Show _me_ some kindness, and I'll return the quill."

"What sort of _kindness_ are you suggesting?"

"Oh, I dunno," he began, softly dragging the tip of the feather along her jaw line. "Maybe you could stop snapping at me every time I try to talk to you..."

Hermione could feel gooseflesh tickling the back of her neck and on her arms and was relieved to know that Malfoy couldn't see this beneath her robes.

"Fine," she said composedly. "I won't snap at you. That is if you aren't being a prat to me," she amended.

"Fair enough," he murmured, dragging the feather across her cheek. His eyes followed the path of the feather as he swept it across her lips. Hermione's breath quickened as Malfoy began lowering his head...

"Get away from her, Malfoy!"

Lifting his head, Malfoy stepped away, revealing Harry who was standing several feet behind him. Hermione blushed furiously, angry at herself for letting Malfoy get so close.

"Later, Granger," Malfoy drawled, shoving past Harry and disappearing around the corner.

Hermione slumped against the wall.

"Thanks for that, Harry. Malfoy can be such a-"

"What the hell is going on?" he interjected angrily. Hermione faltered.

"I dunno what you're talking about-"

"Don't lie to me, Mione! I saw you! He was about to kiss you, and you weren't even trying to stop him!"

Seeing the hurt and guilty expression on Hermione's face, Harry calmed himself.

"I'm not one to judge. But for Christ's sake, Hermione. _Malfoy_? After everything he's done to you- to all of us! Not to mention what he did to his family-"

"Harry, I appreciate the concern, but there is nothing going on between us. I admit that Malfoy has been making advances, but-"

"Have you told Ron any of this?"

Hermione shook her head.

"You can't tell him, Harry. He'll go ballistic. You _know_ how he gets-"

"I'm not going to tell him," hesaid grudgingly. "Just answer one question, and be honest with me: Do you fancy Malfoy?"

Hermione slowly raised her eyes to his.

"No," she replied. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're my best friend. I trust you. But Ron is also my best friend-"

"_Mine_ as well," she said defensively.

"I'm just warning you, Mione. Ron's crazy about you. He told me about yesterday afternoon and how you agreed to go to the costume ball with him. If you betray him..."

Harry didn't need to say anymore. Hermione knew what he meant. If she betrayed Ron, Harry would pick Ron's side. She couldn't blame him. She also couldn't let it come to that.

"I understand, Harry. But there's nothing to worry about," she said firmly. Harry gave her a small smile.

"Sorry if I freaked out back there," he said, starting to walk down the corridor. Hermione strolled beside him.

"Ginny had told me about how Malfoy was trying to seduce you-"

"Naturally," Hermione said chuckling, not surprised that Ginny ran straight to Harry with the news. He grinned.

"I was worried because she got the impression that you were a bit- er- _taken_ by it all. And just seeing you with him... I dunno. I guess I overreacted."

"Just a little," she joked.

* * *

"Oy! Hermione!" 

Hermione turned and saw Ron jogging to catch up with her. For some strange reason, she had the small urge to run away.

"Ron! Where were you at break? I only saw Harry," she said as he walked with her.

"I had to talk to McGonagall about getting the pitch for practice this week. Are you going to lunch right now?" he asked.

"Actually, I was going to do a bit of studying."

"In the library?"

"No. The Room of Requirement."

"Oh. Er, I could come with you... if you want..." he suggested hopefully. Hermione reacted quickly.

"You know, I'm actually quite hungry. I think I'm going to eat lunch in the Great Hall today instead. Will you walk with me?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied eagerly, although he seemed a little disappointed. Feeling guilty, Hermione reached out and held his hand. He gave her a surprised but delighted smile and entwined his fingers with hers as they descended the marble staircase towards the Great Hall.

* * *

For the first time ever, Hermione wasn't paying attention to Professor Vector in her Advanced Arithmancy class. She was too consumed with guilt to concentrate on anything. Ron had really wanted to be alone with her today... and she had panicked. She was so confused. So their first kiss hadn't been everything that she had expected. She still loved him. 

But why was she so attracted to Malfoy? Why had their first kiss been so wonderful... No! Hermione's mind shrieked. I'm not attracted to Malfoy! I hate his gray eyes and the way they turn silver right before he kisses- No! He's vile! Repugnant! Arrogant!

Oh, but she was only fooling herself. She wanted him and knew it. She knew it as much as she knew that she had never been so physically attracted to anyone. But she couldn't give in. If she did, she would lose Harry and Ron...

And Ron! Why couldn't she be attracted to _him_? Everything was going wrong. _Harry_ was supposed to be Head Boy. _Ron_ was supposed to be the only man for her. Damn Malfoy! He was ruining everything! But it was going to stop _now_! Hermione knew she had to take action and take back control of her life. She would stay strong and ignore Malfoy's advances until he gave up. Because eventually, he _would_ give up... wouldn't he?

* * *

Draco made the final touches to his Transfiguration essay and looked up at the clock. It was a few minutes before ten. Hoping to get Hermione to join him for patrol, he went to retrieve the bookworm from her room. 

"Granger," he called, knocking on her door.

No answer.

"Good one, Granger, but I know you're in there!"

Still no answer.

"The little chit," he muttered, turning the doorknob. It was locked.

"Oh, _come on_!" he yelled.

"Need something, Malfoy?"

Malfoy whipped around and found Hermione standing just inside the common room with an amused smirk on her face.

"Why the hell is your door locked?" he asked irritably.

"I have _you_ living next to me. Need I say more?"

"Very funny. Are you just now getting back from detention?"

"No. I didn't have detention. _I _just finished patrol," she replied, grinning happily to herself.

"Maybe I was hallucinating, Granger, but I could have sworn I saw Snape give you a detention. And unless my eyesight is failing, it's now ten o'clock, meaning it's time to _start_ patrol. And what the bloody hell are you grinning about?" he bit out. Hermione actually laughed.

"Today's my lucky day," she announced.

"Really? Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, it's a funny story. Oh, but I can't tell it to you now. _You_ have patrol," she said,almost dancing to the nearest armchair and plopping down.

"Screw patrol. I want to hear what's gotten you in such a perky mood," he said, plopping down into an armchair near hers. Hermione sighed.

"If you insist," she said with mock exasperation before beginning her tale. "Today after class, I decided to have a little chat with Professor McGonagall. I confessed to her that, with all the homework and late night patrols, I wasn't gettingmuch sleep and that the sleep I _was_ getting was riddled with nightmares due to excess amounts of stress. I then told her all about my tardiness in Snape's class this morning and the detention I received. That's when she gave me a brilliant solution to all my problems."

"Which was?"

"She switched my schedule with one of the prefects. So now, I have patrol duty from nine to ten o'clock instead of an hour later," Hermione concluded cheerfully.

"That still doesn't explain how you got out of detention."

"Oh right! That! Well, with me being Head Girl, Professor McGonagall took pity on me and waved the detention. Wasn't that generous of her?"

"Agonizingly so," Malfoy replied. Hermione yawned.

"I've had a very long day, and I already finished my homework. I think I'll turn in."

Without another glance at Malfoy, Hermione stood up and pranced gracefully to her room. She couldn't have been more pleased with herself. Not only did she escape spending time with the arrogant bastard, but she would also have the bathroom to herself for at least an hour every night. Finally hearing Malfoy leave a few moments later, Hermione did what she had been waiting to do for over two weeks: She took her first nighttime bath.

* * *

"Shouldn't you be patrolling the halls for nocturnal miscreants?" Blaise asked. 

"Fuck patrol," Malfoy snapped. Blaise grinned.

"You have big news, then?"

Malfoy picked up his glass of firewhisky and swirled it around, smelling it.

"The plot has definitely thickened," he replied, smirking into the amber liquid. "It seems that the guilt factor is starting to set in," he said, taking a sip.

"The guilt factor?"

"Although Granger is attracted to _me_," Malfoy explained,"she is now _with_ Weasle. And even though she loves Weasle, she's not attracted to him."

"So she feels guilty for being attracted to _you_," Blaise concluded.

"Exactly. And it gets better. Potter saw me almost kiss her today."

"Right. The significance of that being..."

"He also saw her _not_ push me away. Potter's a little temperamental, but he's not an idiot. He accused her of being attracted to me. She convinced him that she wasn't. Then he basically told her that their friendship would end if she slept with me. It wasn't part of my original plan to split up the Golden Trio, but I must say, it will be a nice bonus in the end," Malfoy finished cockily, downing the rest of his glass of firewhisky.

"I'm impressed, Draco. I had no idea that you were such an expert in clairvoyance."

"I'm not. I'm just really good at eavesdropping."

**End of Chapter Note: **I swear... editing is sixty percent of the writing process, at least. I've read and edited this chapter so many times, I don't even know what it means anymore. Bla... that's all I see. Letters that form words with no meaning. Because I am completely apathetic by the time I post these chapters, I honestly can't tell if what I have written is good or not. That's why reviews are appreciated. An author needs to know that the sleepless nights and tiresome hours of writing and proofreading and editing and banging their head against the wall have paid off. That all said and done, I would like to give myself a pat on the back for all the hardwork I put into writing fan fiction. Oh hell... I'll give myself two pats on the back.


	6. The Distractions of Attraction

**Author's Note:** Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I had to finish my summer reading and then school started so I was really busy. Ok, enough explaining. Go read.

**Special Credit:** I can't remember what fanfic I stole this from, but I'm using "The Ascendant" as a name of a new broom. I'd like to thank whoever thought that name up for letting me borrow it. Not that the author gave me permission but, hey, I was desperate. So thanks. Ok, _now_ you can go read.

**Chapter Six: The Distractions of Attraction**

"You wanted to see me, Professor?"

"Yes. Have a seat, Miss Granger." Hermione took a seat in a stiff back chair across from McGonagall.

"Have you and Mr. Malfoy made any progress in planning the costume ball?" McGonagall asked. Hermione tried to look as composed as possible… but she couldn't keep her cheeks from turning pink.

"I have given it some thought," she replied meekly. McGonagall raised her eyebrows.

"_Giving it thought_, Miss Granger, was not the sort of progress I was looking for. I was hoping that you and Mr. Malfoy had at least decided on a menu. These things must be planned well in advance. Perhaps the two of you could have a meeting tonight," she suggested. Hermione knew to take that as an order.

"Of course, Professor. I shall hold a meeting with Malfoy after dinner."

"Excellent. Here's an outline of what needs to be done." McGonagall handed her a sheet of parchment. "I expect a status report on Monday."

* * *

"Malfoy! Pay attention!" Hermione ordered. She and Malfoy had returned to the common room after dinner to conduct the so-called meeting. 

"I _am_ paying attention," he replied slyly, continuing to stare at Hermione's legs. They were exposed from the lower thigh and down due to the fact that she had taken off her school robes and was wearing the usual pleated skirt. Hermione grabbed the black robes off the back of her chair and threw them over her legs.

"I meant to the discussion!" she yelled in exasperation. Her legs being covered, Draco turned his attention to the tempting "v" of flesh at the neck of her white blouse.

"I'm all ears, Granger. Please continue. You were saying something about the menu…"

"Yes! I was saying that we need to _decide_ the menu so that we can make the orders well in advance. We also need to choose the entertainment and decorations- WILL YOU STOP STARING AT MY BREASTS!" she shrieked.

Draco grinned.

"Would you rather I massaged them?" he asked.

Draco quickly ducked in order to avoid the book that had been thrown at him even though it was about three feet off target. Finally having Malfoy's attention off of her body, Hermione took a calming breath.

"Now, if you're done sexually harassing me, _I_ would like to get some work done. But I'd be more than happy to inform Professor McGonagall that you aren't willing to fulfill your duties as Head Boy-"

"Just shush and let's get this over with," he said irritably, resuming his comfortably lounged position on the couch.

Surprisingly enough, they got through the next half hour of discussion without any mishaps. Hermione was so focused on planning the ball that she almost forgot she was working with an arrogant, pompous ass.

"So the menu is done, and we've made a list of the decorations we'll need. Now we need the musical entertainment. I really enjoyed the Weird Sisters from the Yule Ball in our fourth year. I would prefer Celestina Warbeck, but it would probably be too difficult to get her-"

"We have to dance the first dance, don't we?" Draco interrupted.

Hermione didn't even look up from her notes.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"We should practice," Malfoy said, standing up.

"Right now?" she asked.

"Why not?"

Hermione sighed.

"Malfoy, it's bad enough I have to dance with you once in my life."

Draco folded his arms and stared down at her.

"How long are you going to pretend that you aren't attracted to me?"

"As long as it takes for you to finally realize that I'm not pretending."

"Granger, we both know you want me. You've already confessed to me that you do."

"I was drunk!"

"All the more reason why it's true."

"Fine, Malfoy. I'm attracted to you. Now as I was saying, Celestina Warbeck might be too difficult to get-"

"Hold on, Granger. I still want to practice."

"And _I_ don't."

"You're scared again."

"Oh, right. I'm scared that you'll find out I'm attracted to you," she said sarcastically.

"But I already know you're attracted to me."

"Then why am I scared _this_ time?"

Malfoy grinned.

"Because you find me irresistible and you know that a single touch from me will… _sway_ you."

Hermione snorted.

"I see. I suppose I have to dance with you now in order to prove that I can't be _swayed_?"

"You supposed correctly. But more importantly, I need to know if you can dance. I wouldn't want you to make a fool of me in front of our peers," Draco replied, offering Hermione his hand. She glared at him and reluctantly accepted his hand, bracing herself for what was coming. She tried to focus on the technical aspects of dancing as Malfoy slid his hand to the small of her back. As soon as she placed her free hand on his shoulder, Malfoy began counting off in rhythm.

"And…one, two, three. One, two, three..."

They had been waltzing for several moments when Draco finally spoke.

"Not bad, Granger. Where did you learn to dance like this?" he asked conversationally as they continued dancing.

Hermione was pleasantly surprised by his politeness.

"My dad used to twirl me around the house when I was little. After the Yule Ball, I became extremely curious and decided to research ballroom dancing. I read several books on it and then taught my dad how to twirl me properly. Where did _you_ learn to dance like this?"

Draco smirked.

"Well, with _my_ upbringing…"

Hermione grinned.

"I should have guessed as much."

"You should have, but I'm sure you were just too distracted by your overwhelming desire for me."

Hermione actually laughed.

"I used to find your arrogance annoying, but it's getting more amusing by the day. As you can see, Malfoy, I've been dancing with you for quite sometime now and have yet to throw myself at you."

"But you're still attracted to me," he said with a sexy grin.

"Attractive as you may be, I have proven that I can resist you."

Draco quirked an eyebrow.

"Really? What if I pulled you a bit closer?" he asked, pressing her lower back towards him until the proper gap between their bodies evaporated. Hermione's heart began hammering as she came into contact with his solid chest.

"Am I resistible now?" he asked huskily.

Hermione sought control of herself.

"Yes," she replied a bit shakily. Her knees were turning to water just from inhaling his scent.

"I see. But what if I do… _this_," he murmured seductively, leaning forward and kissing the skin just beneath her jaw, causing Hermione to shiver. His lips trailed searing kisses down to the cove between her neck and shoulder. Hermione didn't even notice that they had stopped dancing. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a little voice was telling her to stop Malfoy from doing whatever heavenly thing he was doing to her with his lips… but then that reckless feeling suddenly came over her… and she stopped thinking.

Draco could hardly control himself. He tried to restrain his hands from wandering, but they had other ideas. They were suddenly undoing the buttons of Hermione's white blouse and then slipping it off one of her shoulders, allowing him more access to her skin. His lips moved to her shoulder and then down to her collarbone. Finally, his craving for her lips took precedence, and he kissed her hungrily on the mouth.

Every fiber of Hermione's body was consumed with a melting heat. Every part of her was begging to be touched. She drew Malfoy's tongue into her mouth, savoring his exotic flavor. Her fingers combed through his shorter hair, surprised by its new softness. A soft moan escaped her when she felt Malfoy's questing hands cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing back and forth-

"Hermione!"

Hermione jumped away from Malfoy at the sound of Ron's voice outside the common room.

"Hermione! Let me in! I forgot the password!"

Heart hammering for a completely different reason than the one from a moment before, Hermione scrambled to button her blouse and shove Malfoy towards his room.

"Hermione! Can you hear me! Open up! It's Ron!"

"_Malfoy!"_ Hermione whispered frantically as she opened his door. "_I know you're a heartless bastard, but I'm begging you._ _Don't say anything to Ron. Please, just stay in here_," she whispered desperately, pushing him into his room. Not waiting for a reply, she silently closed the door behind him and ran to the common room entrance.

"What took you so long?" Ron asked bewilderedly, walking into the room a few moments later.

Hermione thought up a lie.

"I'm sorry. I was reading in my room. I didn't hear you," she said convincingly.

Ron came towards her.

"It's okay. I forgive you," he replied, grinning.

He leaned in to kiss her, but Hermione turned her head away.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Hermione thought up another lie.

"It's er- It's just that I- I think I'm getting sick. And I don't want to get _you_ sick. It could be the flu," she warned.

Ron frowned.

"You do seem a little flushed," he replied, feeling her forehead.

Just then, Malfoy came striding out of his room wearing his quidditch robes. Hermione held her breath. But Malfoy said nothing. He didn't even acknowledge their presence as he continued past them and out of the common room. Hermione let out the breath she had been holding and collapsed into an armchair nearby.

* * *

Hermione needed help and fast. She had to stop Malfoy. She couldn't trust herself to be alone with him anymore. It didn't matter that her mind knew what she had done was wrong- her body was the treacherous one. She knew she couldn't turn to Ginny for help because she would just tell Harry. Then there was the fact that Ginny was Ron's sister. Hermione needed an expert. Someone who had plenty of experience with men. She needed- 

"Lavender, I need to speak with you."

It was the evening after the Draco incident. Hermione had gone searching for Lavender Brown, infamous Gryffindor flirt, and had found her surrounded by a group of boys in the Gryffindor common room.

"I'm a little _busy_, Hermione," Lavender said, winking at a cute fourth year.

Hermione leaned in so only Lavender could hear.

"Please, Lavender. It's- It's a _man_ problem," she whispered.

Lavender quirked an interested eyebrow, excused herself from her admirers, and followed Hermione out of the common room. Hermione found a deserted classroom and led Lavender inside.

"What sort of man problems are you having? It's not about Ron, is it?" Lavender asked eagerly.

"Unfortunately, no. I need a favor," Hermione said urgently.

Lavender studied her nails.

"I dunno, Hermione. You were, after all, absolutely horrible to me when I lost my baby rabbit, Binky. Maybe if you apologized for being so _insensitive_-"

"That was in third year! How could you possibly still resent me for that!"

"Do you want my help or not?" Lavender asked, glancing warningly at the door.

Hermione sighed.

"Lavender, I apologize for being so insensitive to you after your rabbit, Winky-"

"_Binky!"_

"Yes- sorry- after your rabbit, _Binky_ died. _Now_ will you help me?"

"Who is he?" Lavender asked all knowingly.

Hermione glanced nervously around the room.

"Before I say anything, you have to swear that whatever is said in this room _stays_ in this room."

"I swear," Lavender said, the shine of curiosity blooming in her eyes.

Hermione's eyes swept the classroom's dark corners once more before speaking.

"Draco Malfoy is out to seduce me, and I have to stop him."

Lavender bubbled with laughter.

"Draco Malfoy? After _you_? Darling, take it from me. He's not trying to seduce you. Just because you two share a common room doesn't mean-"

"We were snogging in that very same common room just yesterday!" Hermione declared with a small sense of satisfaction.

Lavender's jaw dropped.

"That bastard! After all the advances I made last year, and now he wants _you_. No offense," she replied, eyeing Hermione up and down.

"Lavender, I _don't want_ Malfoy to seduce me."

"Why ever not? Every girl I know is dying to have a go with him... including myself," she added as an after thought.

"Well, I'm not one of those girls. I need you to helpme _dissuade_ Malfoy."

"But why? Do you not fancy him?" Lavender asked, appalled by the mere idea.

"No, you see, _that's_ the problem. I _do_ fancy him."

"Then why do you want to dissuade him?"

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Because," she began patiently. "I'm dating Ron, and he almost walked in on Malfoy and me yesterday. I can't let that happen again. _Ever_. So will you help me? Please?" she begged.

"I will if you let me copy your notes."

"Deal. So how do I get rid of Malfoy?"

Lavender paced back and forth, thinking.

"You could just try avoiding him," she said finally.

Hermione sighed impatiently.

"That's a little difficult to do considering that we're practically living together."

Lavender rolled her eyes and continued pacing. She suddenly stopped and threw her hands up in surrender.

"Unless you kill him or castrate him, you don't have a bloody chance in hell of deterring him from his goal. Slytherins are _very_ ambitious, you know… _very_ ambitious," Lavender repeated, lost in her wayward thoughts.

The situation was starting to look hopeless for Hermione.

"There has to be _something_ I can do. A spell or a charm or anything!" Hermione cried desperately.

Lavender suddenly snapped her fingers.

"There is one book- full of love charms and such."

Hermione stamped her foot like a sullen child.

"But those never work! And _I_ would know! I tried to charm Ron into asking me out many times-"

"But you're not casting a spell for love. You're trying to rid yourself of a persistent and unwanted suitor… another matter entirely. Besides, it's better than murder or castration."

Hermione sighed dejectedly.

"I suppose it's worth a try."

* * *

"Malfoy is after Hermione? As in _Goody Good Granger_? You must be joking!" Parvati gasped.

Lavender continued applying her eyeliner, feeling no shred of guilt over breaking her promise of confidentiality to Hermione.

"I'm afraid not. Hermione came to me asking for advice on how to dissuade him. I gave her my book of love charms."

"But none of those charms work," Parvati said, pouting her lips in the mirror.

"I know they don't. But I had to do _something_. The poor girl was desperate," Lavender replied.

Parvati laughed.

"She'll never last. I wouldn't be surprised if Draco shags her before the week's end."

Lavender smiled to herself.

"I bet you five galleons she'll have _him_ begging by Halloween," she proposed.

"Ooo! A wager! Count me in," Parvati said, grinning.

* * *

Hermione made sure no one was in the Astronomy tower before unloading her supplies from her bag. When she was done, she had a pink candle, matches, scissors, the spell book, a pair of Malfoy's boxers that she had stolen, and a stick of chalk. She opened the spell book and read: 

"On the night of a full moon, light a pink candle." Hermione lit the candle and followed the rest of the instructions. She cut a square out of Malfoy's silky green boxers and wrote his name in chalk on the scrap of fabric. While burning the fabric, she recited the incantation:

"This light will burn out any flames of passion Malfoy has for me. He is gone, I am free."

Hermione was worried by the spell's simplicity, but she let the candle burn down as directed. Late as she fell into another night of sleep filled with the tormenting dragon dreams, she was confident that the spell would work. It _had_ to work. Her sanity and friendships depended on it.

* * *

"Blaise! I'm in love!" Malfoy proclaimed as he entered the Slytherin common room.

Blaise had just finished setting up a game of wizard's chess and was now looking at Malfoy with utter disgust.

"It's been three weeks and you're already besotted with her?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Fuck no, you stupid git," Malfoy replied, returning the disgusted look. He then held up a broom catalogue.

"I was referring to my new broom- the _Ascendant_. It's the fastest model since the Firebolt. And guess who's first on the waiting list for it," Malfoy said, smirking.

Blaise sighed.

"For a moment there, I thought I'd lost you, mate."

Malfoy sat down across from him and began the match of chess, ignoring Blaise's last comment and telling him about his new broom as they played.

"Up to 150 mph in ten seconds," Malfoy rambled on about fifteen minutes later. "Potter won't stand a chance. The Firebolt is like an old Shooting Star compared to the Ascendant-"

"Oh! Did you hear? A betting pool has begun. I bet fifty galleons in your favor," Blaise casually interjected.

Malfoy forgot all about the Ascendant.

"In _my_ favor? What do you mean?" he asked warily.

Blaise ordered his bishop forward before replying.

"It appears that word of your intent to seduce the bookworm has reached school-wide attention. My sources tell me that the betting began in Gryffindor. The pot is up to seven hundred galleons."

"Jesus Christ," Malfoy muttered, flinging his queen across the board. She stood up, rubbed her backside, and made a rude gesture at him.

"The month is over in less than a week, mate. My bet's on the 30th. Do you think you could bed the bookworm then?"

Malfoy only glared back at him. Blaise sniggered.

"How are things coming? Any contact since yesterday?" he asked.

"Thanks to Weasle's interruption, the chit has been avoiding me ever since," Malfoy began irritably. "If _Weasle_ hadn't of shown up, she would have been mine. I find it very annoying the way she just stopped what she was doing with me and ran to _him_. It's sickening. She even called me a heartless bastard for no apparent reason. _He's_ the pathetic, worthless, _retarded_ bastard-"

"My, my, Malfoy. Aren't we a bit _jealous_."

"_Jealous_? _Me_? Hardly," Malfoy said insisted.

A sly grin slowly spread across Blaise's face.

"Really? What if I told you that I saw them snogging in the corridor the other day? Does that irritate you?"

Malfoy eyed his friend carefully.

"One more stupid comment out of you, Blaise-"

"I was just making an observation. By the way, I would stop doodling her name all over your notebook. People might think your feelings towards the little bookworm have ripened into something of a more _tender_ nature, if you know what I mean."

Blaise's grinning face was soon adorned with a busted lip.

**For Those Who Feel It Necessary To Tell Me How To Write My Story:** I'm the writer. You're the reader. End of story. I don't mean to sound bitchy, but the people who are telling me things like, "Don't put too much sex in yet. Keep it slow. Don't make Draco too nice," or "Sex it up" are really starting to piss me off. If Hermione has sex with Draco in the next chapter or if Draco decides to become a monk or if Ron joins the circus, that's up to me. Not you. Or you! Or any of the rest of you! _I'm_ writing the story here! That's right! _Me_, damn it! _Me_! (laughs maniacally and runs around the room)

**End of Chapter Note:** Hope you enjoyed the chapter! )


	7. Let the Betting Begin

**Author's Note:** I have two AP classes and yet I managed to get this chapter done. Pat on the back to me. Ok, fine. I used this to procrastinate on my homework multiple times. Anyhoo, it's worth it because I really like this chapter. Enjoy!

**Chapter Seven: Let the Betting Begin**

_The beast was chasing her. She could feel the heat of the flames being breathed at her back. The smoke clouded her vision. She could hear the pounding of the dragon's feet hitting the ground… the pounding grew louder… it was going to catch her-_

"Hermione!"

Hermione shot awake to the sound of pounding at her door.

"Hermione! It's Ginny! Wake up!"

There was more pounding as Hermione quickly got out of bed and hurried to the door.

"Quick! We have to go!" Ginny exclaimed as soon as Hermione had let her in.

"What? What do you mean-"

"Hermione! There's no time! Ron's going after Malfoy! He'll be here any second! Just throw some robes on or something! We have to stop Ron before he does something stupid! Let's go!" Ginny exclaimed rapidly.

Not only was Hermione extremely confused, but she was also alarmed by Ginny's sense of urgency. Briefly glancing at her clock, she was even more alarmed to learn that she had slept in until ten o'clock.

As soon as Hermione had thrown some robes over her pajamas, Ginny grabbed her arm and hauled her into the common room. At that moment, Ron came barging in, paying no heed to the two girls as he continued to Malfoy's door and started pounding on it furiously… although from the looks of it, he seemed more intent on knocking the door down than actually getting Malfoy's attention.

No sooner had Malfoy's furious face appeared when Ron's fist went crashing into it.

"RON, NO!" Hermione and Ginny yelled simultaneously, both hurdling over sofas to reach him before he caused any more damage. Meanwhile, Malfoy had recuperated from the blow and was feeling his bleeding cheek.

"What the _fuck_ was that all about?" he rasped.

"What the fuck is the _bet_ all about!" Ron barked back.

Hermione had been busy tugging on Ron's arm but suddenly froze when she heard the word 'bet'. What was Ron going on about?

"Look, _Weasle_," Malfoy bit out, wiping another wave of oozing blood from his cheek, "I don't know how the fucking bet got started-"

"Bullocks! _You_ started it, you son of a-"

"What bet!" Hermione suddenly interjected.

Both Ron and Malfoy turned to look at her.

"_Apparently_," Ron began, throwing Malfoy a look of pure hatred, "there is a very large betting pool concerning you and Malfoy."

Panic and fear were slowly closing in on Hermione.

"What _exactly_ are people betting on?" she asked tentatively.

Ron glared ahead and shifted uncomfortably, squeezing his hands into tight fists at his sides before answering.

"People are placing bets on when Malfoy will… _seduce_ you."

Hermione's heart slammed into her throat. Everyone in the school knew that Malfoy was trying to seduce her… including Ron!

"I think I'll just be going now," Ginny chirped, slowly backing towards the door. Malfoy took his cue.

"Unless you have any other asinine conclusions to jump to, Weasley, I'll be leaving as well."

Just as Ginny was making her escape out of the common room, Malfoy turned and went back to his room. Hermione heard water running a few moments later.

"Hermione, why didn't you tell me about Malfoy?" Ron asked angrily.

"I honestly didn't give it much thought," she lied.

"But, Hermione, now _everyone knows_-"

"Ron, it doesn't matter. I'm dating _you_, remember?" she asked irritably.

"I still wish you had told me about him," he replied sullenly.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"If I had told you, you would have become irrational-"

"Would not!"

Hermione quirked an eyebrow.

"So storming in here a few minutes ago and hitting Malfoy doesn't qualify as irrational behavior to you?"

Ron's ears turned a bit red.

"Well, it may have been _a little_ irrational… but it wasn't completely uncalled for," he said defensively.

"You're lucky he didn't take points from Gryffindor," Hermione berated.

"It would have been worth it either way," he replied, slightly smiling.

When Hermione just smiled back at him, Ron stepped closer and leaned in as if to kiss her. Hermione immediately jumped away.

"No kissing! I haven't brushed my teeth yet!" she warned.

Ron chuckled.

"All right then. I have quidditch practice later. Maybe you can come watch-"

"I can't. I have to study."

"Study? But you're always studying," Ron whined.

"I have a very strict studying schedule, Ron-"

"Okay, fine. No need to get your knickers in a bunch- ouch! Ok, sorry. Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Try to avoid Malfoy. I know he's Head Boy and everything-"

"_Ron_-"

"I'm serious, Hermione. We don't know what he's capable of. He could be dangerous- especially after what he did to his family-"

"What he _supposedly_ did. There's no proof, Ron."

"Will you just promise me that you'll be careful and avoid him as much as possible?"

Hermione sighed.

"I promise."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Hermione had reached the Gryffindor common room and was storming up the stairs to the 7th year dormitories. She was absolutely livid. With her eyes ablaze and her spine straight, she didn't bother to knock before barging in.

Although most of the girls had dressed for the day and left, Parvati and Lavender were still sitting primly at their vanities, applying makeup and styling their hair. They saw Hermione's furious reflection approaching in the mirror.

"Parvati, would you please excuse us? I need to have a little _chat_ with Lavender." Parvati seemed torn between the excitement of witnessing the drama or the horror of being caught in the line of fire. After looking at Hermione's expression, she decided to leave as quickly as possible.

Hermione started yelling as soon as the door had slammed behind Parvati.

"How dare you! I specifically told you that anything _said_ in that classroom _remained_ in that classroom! You even _swore_ not to tell! And now you've started a betting pool! And everyone knows about it!"

Without breaking stride in her makeup routine, Lavender calmly proceeded to apply blush to her cheeks.

"First of all, Hermione, _I_ didn't start the betting pool. Parvati did."

"Only because _you_ told her that Malfoy was trying to seduce me! A little tidbit of information that you swore_ not _to tell!"

Lavender snorted.

"_Please._ Everyone knows that Parvati and I share all of our secrets. You're the one who was fool enough to overlook that well-known fact."

"I was desperate!" Hermione cried defensively.

"Ooo! Speaking of desperate! How did the spell go? Did it work?"

"I don't know!"

"Oh, well then I probably should tell you: It didn't work," Lavender replied casually. Hermione's eyebrows shot up a notch.

"Did you _know_ it wasn't going to work!"

"Of course. But you were hysterical. I had to calm you down _somehow_-"

"Excuse me! Are you telling me you knew that stupid spell wasn't going to work and yet _encouraged me_ to do it anyways? You bi-"

"Careful what you say, Hermione. I haven't told you the good news."

"How could you possibly have good news for me! The whole school knows that Malfoy is out to seduce me!"

"Precisely! _That's_ the good news!"

"I don't understand."

"Everyone knowing about you and Malfoy is the solution to your problems."

Hermione continued to look nonplussed.

"Don't you see? Malfoy is going to be under a lot of pressure to seduce you. And _men_ don't _perform_ well under _pressure_."

"I still don't understand how this is good news."

Lavender searched quickly for an analogy.

"Picture noodles being cooked," she began. "At first, they're hard and straight… but after being cooked under heat and _pressure_ for some time, the noodles become _soft_ and _flaccid_. Do you understand?"

Hermione's blank expression gave her away. Lavender sighed impatiently.

"Must I become graphic? Oh, you poor naïve girl, I'm referring to Malfoy's _sexual drive_. You see, there are two kinds of impotence. There's _physical_ impotence where a man can't 'get it up' because of a lack of hormones. And then there's _emotional_ impotence where a man can't 'get it up' because of psychological reasons. In this case, it would be _emotional_ impotence due to _stress_. If Malfoy is under pressure to succeed, he won't be able to physically perform. Any questions?"

"Get 'what' up?"

Lavender lost all patience.

"Dear God, Hermione! _Malfoy's penis! _His member, his manhood, or whatever you want to call it! Do I need to draw a diagram!"

It suddenly dawned on Hermione. Her lips formed into a silent 'o' and she turned beet red. Lavender sighed with relief.

"I can see you're finally understanding. So now, all you have to do is continue to dissuade him. Tell him you aren't attracted to him-"

"Er, he actually already knows that I _am_ attracted to him."

"How?" Lavender asked incredulously.

Hermione squirmed guiltily.

"It's a long story, but he knows."

Lavender brainstormed as she applied the finishing touches to her lips. She suddenly smiled.

"Oooo… how about this for some added incentive? The pot is close to a thousand galleons now. If you can keep the wild Slytherin at bay until midnight the night of the costume ball, I'll split my winnings with you."

"_Your_ winnings? Then you-"

"Yes, I placed a bet in _your_ favor- the _only_ bet in your favor thus far."

"How can you be so confident that I'll last until then?"

"Because I _saw_ you do it."

"What do you mean, you _saw_ me?"

Lavender turned around in her seat to face Hermione.

"_I_ am a _Seer_."

Hermione snorted.

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe in that branch of magic."

"_Believe it _or not, I know you can do this because I have already foreseen it… just like I've already foreseen that you will receive a nine out of ten on the homework that's due Tuesday in Potions."

Hermione looked appalled.

"That's impossible! I've never received anything less than a hundred percent!"

"We shall see. However, let's return to the bet. I proposed to split the winnings with you. All you have to do is keep away from Malfoy until midnight at the costume ball. Deal?"

Hermione debated with herself for a few moments before deciding. She really wasn't the betting sort. And she really didn't need added incentive. The possibility of losing her friendships with Ron and Harry were reason enough not to give into Malfoy. But the thought of outdoing Malfoy and seeing his face when she won… _that_ would be priceless.

Her mind was made up.

"I'll do it."

* * *

Bat wings! _Bat_ _wings_! That couldn't possibly be right! Hermione raged to herself as she weaved quickly through the people in the corridors to get to the library. It was Tuesday afternoon and Potions had just ended. But more importantly, Hermione had just received her first nine out of ten on a homework. Lavender had been right.

Finally arriving at the library, Hermione went straight to the Potions section and grabbed the book she had used to study from. Rushing to one of her favorite tables in the back, Hermione plopped down and quickly flipped through the pages. Finding the one she had been looking for, she looked closely at the text.

"No!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed. Realizing she had said that aloud, she looked up to find several people staring at her and Madam Pince giving her the evil eye. Blushing furiously, she looked back at the page. Although she had written down 'bat fangs' for an answer on her homework, she must have misread because the text said 'bat _wings_.'

How could I have missed this? Hermione thought, berating herself for making such a careless mistake. It was all Malfoy's fault. If she weren't so stressed out about trying to avoid him, then she would have been more focused on her homework. That heartless bast-

"All alone, Granger?"

Hermione almost jumped out her skin.

"Do you get some sort of sick pleasure out of sneaking up on people?" she whispered irritably.

"Not people. Just you," he replied grinning. He sat down next to her.

"Malfoy, shouldn't you be out terrorizing the first years or something?"

"I suppose."

"Then why are you here annoying me instead?"

"You haven't been studying in your room lately, so I came to see you."

"How thoughtful of you."

"I try. You smell good, by the way. Is that jasmine?"

"Yes, now go away."

"Granger, you can't just flaunt that intoxicating scent and expect me to let you be. Are you trying to drive me crazy?" he asked seductively.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That's right, Malfoy. My whole life is centered on you and your overlarge head. _Now_ you may leave."

"Actually, I won't be leaving just yet. I need to talk to you."

"Oh, really? About what?"

"The bet."

"What about it?"

"I was telling Weasle the truth earlier. I didn't start the bet nor do I publicize my affairs. Therefore, _you_ must have started it… or at least told someone about you and me."

"Two clarifications- wait, three. Do not call Ron 'Weasle" around me. Secondly, I play no part in any of _your_ affairs. And thirdly, there is no 'you and me.' As for how the bet came to be, _I_ had nothing to do with it."

"Come now, Granger. You don't have to lie to me," Malfoy rasped softly in her ear. His hand reached under the table, found the opening in her robes, and came to rest on her mid-thigh. Hermione blushed furiously, trying to focus on the people just tables away instead of the hand that was slowly inching up under her skirt. She clamped her legs together.

"Malfoy, please remove your offensive hand from my thigh."

His hand only inched up further.

"Why should I do that?" he asked huskily, making tiny circles with his thumb.

"Because," Hermione began, smirking, "I'm pointing my wand right at you. So unless you would like to get reintroduced to the blond ferret within, I suggest you get as far away from me as possible."

Malfoy abruptly removed his hand and stared at her coldly, his eyes once again their glacial gray.

"That's extremely reckless of you, Granger."

"Why, thank you, Malfoy. After all, you _do_ bring it out of me," she replied cheerfully as she gathered up her books and stood up.

"By the way," she added, leaning over him, "I placed a bet in my favor. If- excuse me- _when_ I've succeeded in not being seduced by the infamous Draco Malfoy, I get half the pot. So until the clock strikes midnight on the thirty-first of October, I plan on seeing as little of you as possible."

With one last smug smile, Hermione walked away from the sullen Malfoy somehow feeling a lot taller than usual.

* * *

"Granger? Betting? So she's a gambler _and_ an alcoholic. You sure do know how to pick them, mate."

Draco found himself yet again sitting dejectedly on a sofa in the Slytherin common room listening to Blaise taunt him to no end.

"The whole situation is fucked. Not only is she threatening to jinx me, but now the whole school knows about me wanting to shag the bookworm. If Granger actually did start the bet, then that was one hell of a move on her part because, like I just mentioned, I'm fucked."

Blaise studied his glass of fire whisky before replying.

"You see my glass, Malfoy?"

"No, I'm blind. What's your point?"

"Well, you can either look at it as 'half-full' or 'half-empty.' At the moment, you are looking at the whole situation through a 'half-empty' perspective."

"How philosophical of you to point out," Malfoy snapped sarcastically. But after a minute of careful contemplation, Blaise's theory started making sense. Draco was suddenly inspired.

"A lot of money has been put into this."

"That's very true," Blaise replied.

"In fact, most of the people involved could probably be easily manipulated if they thought they had any chance of winning."

"Also very true," Blaise said, now grinning.

"How many people have placed bets, do you think?"

"Fifty or so, I suppose."

"So hypothetically, I could have fifty or so persons on my side."

"Hypothetically speaking, yes."

"Who's taking the bets?"

"I believe the lovely Parvati Patil is holding the books on this one."

Malfoy grinned to himself, a plan brewing in his handsomely shaped head.

"September ends this week. I'll lure the little bookworm into a false sense of security. On the thirtieth, I'll make my move, and you'll win the pot."

Blaise set his drink down.

"Tell you what, mate. You actually pull it off, and I'll give you twenty-five percent of my winnings."

"Only twenty-five percent? I think fifty percent would only be fair, Blaise."

Blaise sighed.

"A thousand galleons would have made for some nice pocket change, but I suppose five hundred would do just as well," he replied with mock regret.

As Draco downed the rest of his fire whisky, he pictured the look on Hermione's face when he won the bet… _that_ would be priceless.

**A Special Note to My Awesome Reviewers: **I'd like to thank everyone who sent in positive reviews… especially after my author's note from the last chapter that some people took way too seriously. So thanks to the majority of you who have a sense of humor and respect my rights as an author. Oh, in response to a certain review, I am open to any grammatical corrections you can find. Being the only one who edits this story, I do sometimes miss a few errors and it would help me out tremendously if you, the reviewers, can point them out so I can edit and re-upload the chapter. However small the error is, I will still go back and fix it. So thanks.

**A Special Note to the Not So Awesome Reviewers: **For those of you who took my last author's note from the previous chapter too seriously, I'm sorry you haven't come to realize that I'm very sarcastic and very dramatic. However, I do mean it when I say I don't want reviews saying to "sex it up" or "sex it down" or whatever other direction I can sex it. I find those reviews very offensive. By the way, I would never make a drastic twist to the story to the extent that Ron joins the circus. Twas a joke. However, I did type something special for my negative reviewers. This is how I was tempted to falsely start this chapter as a sort of hoax. Enjoy!

**What Could Have Been Chapter Seven of _Bookworm and the Beast_: **

After Malfoy had taken Hermione's virginity, he was consumed, for the first time in his life, by an overwhelming amount of guilt. He immediately dropped out of Hogwarts and became a monk.

When he found out Hermione had lost her virginity to Malfoy, Ron went insane and dropped out of Hogwarts to join a circus, using his magical powers as his special talent. He died accidentally when he performed a spell incorrectly during a very tricky tight rope act. He fell tragically to his death.

Hermione, having lost her best friends, became extremely depressed. She failed all of her N.E.W.T.'s and ended up living in her parents' house. She became an alcoholic and randomly died one day when her liver failed. She was found a week later on her living room floor, half-eaten by her many cats.

**The End.**


	8. Calm Before the Storm

**Author's Note:** I'm sick. Go me. I'm probably not going to be able to update this story until Nov. 7 because this weekend I have homecoming. Next weekend, I have a choir trip. And then the following weekend, I have SAT's. Not to mention college applications, AP classes, and bla bla bla. But do not worry. I will do my best to update as often as possible, and I will never ever abandon this story. Pinky swear.

**Chapter Eight: Calm Before the Storm**

A calm had settled over Hermione during the last few days of September. Having put his seduction campaign on hold, she had only seen Malfoy in passing, never exchanging a word or a glance with him as they went their separate ways. She wasn't surprised by his sudden retreat, especially after the incident in the library. She occasionally smiled proudly to herself in recollection of her prowess in that awesome moment when she had unexpectedly pulled her wand on him. However, although she had found peace and relief in Malfoy's withdrawal, her life had become extremely unnerving in other ways.

Every night, the same dream came to her. The flames from the dragon felt like Malfoy's warm hands on her skin, and with every dream, the sensations intensified. Hermione was unsettled and alarmed by her graphic sexual fantasies. What was even more alarming was that she actually enjoyed them.

Even though there had been no activity on the Malfoy front, everyone else at Hogwarts was watching Hermione's every move, wondering when _it_ was going to happen. Everywhere she went, a wave of murmurs would erupt and follow her.

To make matters worse, Ron had suddenly taken an interest in her life and was walking her to classes and spending his every waking moment with her. Knowing that Ron was easily jealous, she suspected that his actions were due to a sense of obligation to keep her far away from Malfoy rather than a feeling of love.

With Ron acting as her shadow and everyone else eyeing her like a hawk, Hermione found herself escaping to her room earlier each night to study. When September 30th came, she asked a prefect to take over her patrol shift, wanting to take the night off for herself.

She wore her favorite nightgown to bed. It was long, sleeveless, and white with tiny pink flowers all over it. It even had a matching robe. After finishing her homework, Hermione finally had time to relax and do her favorite thing before going to sleep: she read a book.

Turning the page of her already battered copy of the revised version of _Hogwarts, A History_, Hermione stiffened when she heard a loud creak. She knew it was Malfoy even before she turned to find him standing at her bathroom door wearing his usual silky green boxers. She slammed her book shut.

"Why do you keep doing that? And an even _better_ question- what are you doing in here?" she snapped, pulling the sheet up over her modest nightgown.

Malfoy leaned casually against the doorframe and smirked.

"_You_ invited me, Granger."

"Excuse me? I certainly _did not_."

"Au contraire," he began, closing the bathroom door and stepping into the room.

"I never invited you into my bedroom, Malfoy. Perhaps you were dreaming because I would never, in my right mind, do such a thing," she stated caustically.

"You left your door open, Granger. I consider that a blatant invitation," he said suggestively, slowly slithering towards her.

Hermione started edging towards the opposite side of the bed, silently berating herself for forgetting to lock her door. She began to realize that this was all a part of Malfoy's strategy. He had lured her into a false sense of security over the past several days, and she had fallen for it. But she refused to be his prey and play right into his hands… in both a literal and figurative sense.

"Malfoy, you've had your fun. You've managed to startle me yet again. Now _leave_."

He grinned.

"Amazingly enough, you've been enraptured with a book every time I've managed to _startle_ you. Interesting. Then again, you aren't considered a bookworm for nothing."

As Malfoy drew dangerously close to her bed, Hermione sought for her wand. Realizing it was in her book bag by her desk, she settled on her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ for a weapon and lifted it above her head.

"One more step, Malfoy, and I'll throw this at you! It's two hundred pages thicker than the original! I mean it! _Stop right there!"_

When Malfoy showed no sign of retreating, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and threw the book at her predator, only daring to open her eyes again when she heard the book hit the floor and Malfoy swear.

There the predator stood slightly hunched over, holding his head in his hands and groaning in pain.

"God, damn it!" he hissed through his hands. "Do you know how many times I've been hit in the face because of you? Jesus Christ!" he swore again, his hands still covering his face.

Hermione snorted nervously before cautiously crawling towards him.

"Well, I can't say I didn't warn you. I didn't intend to hit you _that_ hard. But you kept coming towards me- Are you all right?" she asked, suddenly concerned when he continued to groan in pain. She left the canopy of her bed, stepping towards him as she reached out to move his hands away from his face.

"Here. Move your hands so I can see-"

Hermione yelped in surprise when Malfoy suddenly grabbed her wrists, holding them down at her sides and forcing her back against the bed. Looking at his grinning face in the lamplight, she found it totally unscathed by the flying book.

"You faked it!" she cried, outraged.

"And you fell for it. I must say, I'm a little disappointed by your gullibility, Granger… but pleasantly surprised as well," he rasped, slowly stroking her arm.

She slapped his hand away.

"You do know rape is a major offense and will get you thrown into Azkaban, don't you?" she warned angrily. Malfoy chuckled.

"Funny. I don't see you struggling. I wonder why," he said suggestively, his gaze wandering over her.

"Perhaps because you have me trapped between your body and the bed!" she hissed.

"I apologize. I didn't know you preferred to be on top-"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it! Now _leave_ before I scream bloody murder!"

"Shush, Granger," he murmured, dragging a lock of hair across her forehead. "I just want you to do one thing for me."

Hermione eyed him skeptically.

"One thing? You want me to do one thing, and then you'll have the common decency to stop sexually harassing me?"

"Yes."

She let out an impatient huff.

"Fine. What is it?"

Malfoy languorously traced her lips with his eyes.

"Say my name."

Hermione snorted.

"Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy. Will that do?"

"Not my surname, you little chit. My given name."

"I don't think I've ever called you by your given name," she murmured nervously.

"Which is precisely why I want to hear you say it," he replied huskily, cupping her shoulder and dragging his thumb back and forth underneath the lining of her nightgown.

Hermione suddenly had no urge to move. With his lean body pressing against hers and his lips only a breath away, all she wanted to do was kiss him. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the memory of the dream that had haunted her every night. She leaned forward to kiss him, but his hand quickly shifted to her nape, his fingers shoved in her hair, gently but firmly forcing her head back.

"Say it," he rasped urgently, his velvety grey eyes burning into hers.

Desperate for his kiss, Hermione looked into his melting eyes, feeling his solid form enveloping her, and in a gasp, the name suddenly escaped her.

"Draco."

As if she had said the magic word, Draco came alive, his lips capturing hers in a deeply erotic kiss. He had intended it to be slow and deliberate, but Hermione surprised him with her fervor. Her hands captured both sides of his face, her fingers sweeping back into his silky hair, pulling him closer.

He deepened the kiss as he lifted her to a sitting position on the bed, stepping in between her knees. Settling one hand on her waist, his other hand sought her breast. Wanting to feel her bare skin, his fingers found the tiny buttons on the front of her encumbering nightgown, frantically undoing each one. Finally freeing the last one, his hand reached inside the opening and settled on her breast, slowly massaging it.

Hermione moaned softly, a flame igniting in her loins as Malfoy's tongue moved against hers in the same fashion his hand was moving against her breast. Her fingers slid from his hair to his shoulders, kneading the lean muscles. Draco was now gradually gathering up her nightgown in his fists, bringing the thin fabric up to her waist and exposing her shapely legs. Hermione trembled when she felt the back of his hands on her inner thighs gently spreading them farther apart.

A door suddenly slammed. Draco and Hermione were rudely jarred from their state of desire to find Pansy Parkinson standing by the door, smirking at them with obvious disgust.

"Oh, my poor Drakey. If I had known you were horny enough to shag the mudblood, I would have come sooner. Wash up a bit before you come to bed. I don't want any _filth_ rubbing off on me," Pansy drawled, her voice dripping with venom. Her mission accomplished, she turned and sauntered out of the room.

Pansy's words couldn't have been more effective than a bucket of icy water. Suddenly furious with herself, Hermione jerkily shoved her nightgown back over her legs. When she tried to move away from Draco, he gently grabbed her arm.

"Granger, I-"

"Don't touch me," she said coldly, looking away as she felt tears stinging the back of her eyes.

He tried to pull her towards him.

"Get out!" she yelled, violently shoving him away.

Knowing there was no use, Draco turned dejectedly and left, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

Hot tears of shame rolled down Hermione's cheeks. It had been so easy for him to take control of her- to manipulate her. Pansy's piercing remarks only made her feel dirtier and more ashamed. But she was also somewhat grateful to the Slytherin slut. If Pansy hadn't interrupted them, Hermione was certain that Draco would have had his way with her- and she would have lost the bet.

She could easily envision the expression of absolute triumph on Malfoy's face when he found out that he had finally split up the Golden Trio. As she turned down her lamp and tried to sleep, Hermione shuddered to think of how close she had come to losing the bet just minutes before… and how she would have lost her best friends along with it.

But what was even more disconcerting was knowing that Draco was making love to Pansy just two rooms away.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Hermione had dressed and was on her way to the Gryffindor common room. She couldn't have slept even if she had wanted to- not after coming so close to losing the bet. She needed a plan. She needed to regroup. But more importantly, she needed to get away from the scene of the crime… and even further away from the tormenting knowledge that Malfoy was, at present, making love to Pansy.

There were only a few people still lingering in the common room, studying or chatting with friends. Lavender, however, was surprisingly sitting alone by the fireplace. She seemed to be in state of intense concentration. However, she looked up expectantly when Hermione entered the room and motioned her over to the fire.

"I've been waiting for you," Lavender said, her misty voice sounding eerily like Professor Trelawney's.

"I really need to talk to you," Hermione stated urgently, a little disturbed by Lavender's irregular behavior.

"There is no need to explain," Lavender replied in the misty voice, shutting her eyes, "For I have already _seen_. Draco attempted to seduce you tonight and very nearly succeeded, but Pansy interrupted the seduction and spoiled everything."

"_How did you know?"_ Hermione whispered with wide-eyed astonishment.

"I am a _Seer_," Lavender stated majestically.

"Yes, I know. But- _Seer's_ only _see_ the _future_. And what you _saw_ happened nearly an hour ago. So-"

"Shh! I'm trying to channel!" Lavender hissed before returning to her calm, meditating state. She suddenly groaned irritably.

"Damn! I lost my connection!" she cried, falling back against her chair and staring into the fire in an exasperated manner.

"I'm still confused," Hermione began hesitantly, sitting down across from the distressed Lavender. "How were you able to _see_ a past event? Unless, of course, you _saw_ it happen _earlier_ today, which would explain everything."

Lavender sighed.

"My power is very unusual. When I was younger, I would have premonitions of sorts, never knowing when the event had taken place or _would_ take place. I also couldn't control _what_ I _saw_. Since I've been studying under Professor Trelawney, I have learned to discern from past, present, and future. However, I'm still working on controlling _what_ I _see_, which is very difficult."

"What were you _seeing_ when I walked in?" Hermione asked.

"Apparently, Blaise Zabini and Draco are in cahoots with one another. They're probably still having a discussion as we speak."

"Malfoy is talking with Blaise? But I thought he was-"

"Fucking Pansy? No. In fact, I'm pleased to inform you that Pansy left Draco's quarters very much unsatisfied. He wasn't very happy with her interference and tossed her out."

A surge of relief shot through Hermione.

"What were Malfoy and Blaise discussing?" she asked.

"I dunno," Lavender said, a bit of annoyance in her voice. "Your incessant nagging distracted me. I lost connection before I could fully grasp the full connotation of the discussion. However, I do have some news. Blaise offered Draco, like I offered you, half the pot if he managed to seduce you tonight."

"As if he doesn't have enough money already," Hermione muttered.

"Yes, well, boys will be boys," Lavender replied airily. "Because Draco's failed to seduce you _on time_, he'll most likely be trying even harder to seduce you before the ball to keep you from winning. And now, he has his own army."

"What army?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

"The many people who betted in his favor. They'll do anything to win the pot. Including help Draco seduce you."

Hermione slumped down in her chair into a ball of misery.

"What do I do now?" she mumbled in a faint voice.

"Constant vigilance," Lavender joked.

"This is not a joking matter!" Hermione scolded.

"Darling, relax! You are going to win this bet. I _saw_ it. So stop fretting," Lavender said impatiently.

"What if you're wrong?" Hermione asked suddenly.

Lavender looked highly affronted.

_"Excuse me?"_

"No offense-"

"Much taken."

"_All I'm saying_," Hermione continued, "is that what you _saw_ could have been a false premonition. Divination _is_, after all, the most imprecise branch of magic."

"Really? What about the nine out of ten on your Potions homework? What about _that_? Was _that_ imprecise?" Lavender asked vehemently.

"No," Hermione admitted grudgingly.

"Then trust me! You're going to win! Look at the bigger picture! This isn't about whether or not he can seduce you! It's about _you_ being able to resist _him_! And you can! I _saw_ it!" Lavender cried triumphantly.

Minutes later when Hermione was walking back to her dormitories, she realized that even though Lavender was probably insane, she was right. It was all a question of mind over matter. Or in this case, mind over body. I can do this, Hermione thought confidently, inspired by Lavender's impassioned speech. She grinned to herself. Against her mind, Malfoy didn't stand a chance.

* * *

"I was so close, Blaise. So excruciatingly close," Draco said in an agonized whisper, wincing dramatically.

"But then Pansy interrupted," Blaise provided.

"And fucked it all up," Draco concluded.

"Well," Blaise said, clapping his hands together. "I'm sure you found some poetic justice in fucking the person who fucked it all up for you."

"No, actually. I didn't."

"Didn't find poetic justice?"

"Didn't fuck the fuck up."

"You passed up on Pansy? After being thrown out by the bookworm?" Blaise asked incredulously.

"That's not even the worst part," Draco admitted, downing a full glass of firewhisky.

"You passed up on sex. What could possibly be worse?"

Malfoy shifted uncomfortably.

"I haven't had sex in two weeks."

Blaise was appalled.

"Not even," he said, making an odd hand gesture.

"No," Malfoy choked out.

"What in bloody hell is wrong with you, mate?"

"I dunno!" Malfoy exclaimed, punching the sofa cushion in frustration. "I think I'm losing my seduction capabilities. It's been a month. A month! And yet no success," he said dejectedly, downing another glass.

"Pull yourself together, mate!" Blaise snapped. "You are the most successful womanizer ever to attend Hogwarts in its entire history! Last year alone, you added one hundred and _fifty_ notches to your bedpost!"

"One hundred and fifty-_three_," Draco amended cockily.

Blaise clapped him on the shoulder.

"That's the spirit!"

**End of Chapter Note:** Was this chapter any good? I've read over it and edited it so many times that it's lost all meaning… like when you repeat a word a couple of dozen times. Ok, I need some chicken soup and a bed. Hoped you enjoyed the chapter. And if you didn't, there are better times to be had. Tootles.


	9. Mixed Messages

**Author's Note:** There is no author's note. Go read.

**Chapter Nine: Mixed Messages**

Hermione could find nothing more relaxing, nothing more liberating than swimming around naked in warm, bubbly bath water. Having completed her tenth lap around the perimeter of her Olympic-size bathtub, she swam to the edge and sat on the stone bench, leaning her drenched head back and closing her eyes.

As the perfumed steam rose up from the surface of the water and floated over her face, Hermione quietly mused to herself, wondering how it was possible for bath water to stay consistently warm even after an hour of soaking in it. She knew she should get out soon. Draco would be back from patrol any minute, and she couldn't risk him finding her naked in a bathtub.

She was just contemplating getting out when she heard a very loud bang come from Draco's room followed by what sounded like furniture being thrown around.

"God, damn it!" came a muffled yell.

She yelped in alarm when the door to the bathroom suddenly slammed open, and Draco came striding in.

"AAHH! GET OUT!" Hermione screamed hysterically, lowering herself into the water so that only her head was above the surface.

"Oh, cool your bloody horses, woman! I'm not here for you!" Draco retorted as he frantically opened drawers and cabinets, tossing through the contents of each one before moving on to the next.

When he reached the towel cabinet, he tossed them one by one over his shoulder until the whole cabinet was empty and a large mound of towels lay on the floor.

"Son of a bitch!" he raged, slamming the cabinet shut and kicking the towels.

Hermione found his childish behavior rather comical… and yet somehow charming.

"What are you looking for?" she asked with an amused smirk on her face, grateful that she was well covered by the thick, foamy bubbles floating on the surface of the water.

"I can't find my lucky boxers," Draco whined, grabbing his hair in frustration.

"What do they look like?" Hermione asked calmly.

He looked at her.

"They're silk and green," he replied.

"Are all your boxers silk and green?"

"Well, yes… but these were a bit more worn than the others, and they had my initials on them."

Hermione snorted.

"What's so funny?" he asked defensively.

"Nothing. Did you check the laundry?" she asked, trying desperately not to laugh for she suddenly recalled burning a pair of Draco's boxers for a spell that hadn't worked.

"I checked everywhere! My room, here, the laundry! I even asked the _house elves_ if they had seen them," Draco painfully admitted.

"Did you check the changing rooms?" Hermione asked a bit stiffly, frowning upon his condescension towards the house elves.

"They couldn't possibly be in there. I only wear them for games, and we haven't played yet."

"When _are_ you playing?"

"Tomorrow! Our first game against Gryffindor! I'm doomed without my lucky boxers!" he concluded dramatically.

"How are they your _lucky_ boxers?"

"Pardon?"

"You've never beaten Harry to the snitch before. Obviously, your boxers can't be _that_ lucky. What difference would it make if you wore them or not?"

"That's rather bold of you to scoff at me, Granger… especially in your present state of vulnerability," he said, taking a threatening step towards the water.

"You wouldn't dare!" Hermione hissed.

"Watch me," he declared, taking another step.

"If you set so much as a baby toe into this tub, I'll have you _expelled_. Besides, you wouldn't want to be contaminated by any of my_ filth_," she bit out.

"You're still dwelling over what Pansy said?" he asked, disappointment etched on his face.

"I don't care about what _Parkinson_ said," she replied defiantly.

"Of course, you don't," he muttered sarcastically.

"I just don't understand why _you_, of all people, would be attracted to _me_, a muggle-born."

Draco shrugged.

"Perhaps there's more to me than the heartless bastard you're accustomed to. If you'll excuse me, I have a pair of _lucky_ boxers to find," he said shortly, walking out and closing the door with a quick slam behind him.

As Hermione climbed out of the tub and dried off, she realized that out of all of the odd conversations that she had had with Draco, that was most definitely the oddest one of all.

* * *

"AND GINNY WEASLEY SCORES! 20-0, GRYFFINDOR!" Dean Thomas shouted out over the stadium.

Hermione winced at the deafening sound as she screamed along with all the other Gryffindors roaring at the top of their lungs. Sitting back down, she let out another scream when she turned and came face to face with a serpent.

"Luna! You're serpent is malfunctioning again!" Hermione cried, backing away from the green snake. Without looking up from her copy of _The Quibbler_, Luna lightly thumped the serpent on the head with her wand. It slowly slithered back into the mouth of the lion situated atop her head.

"YES!" Dean suddenly exclaimed. "Goyle got hit in the head with a bludger! That'll cause some more brain damage- Oh, come on, Professor! Even you have to admit he's a thickhead- All right, all right. Back to the game. Creevey passes to Creevey. Creevey passes to Weasley…"

The commentary slowly faded to background noise as Hermione's attention became focused on Harry. He was still high above the pitch, flying aimlessly from end to end, looking for the snitch. Growing bored, Hermione's eyes wandered toward the Slytherin seeker who was floating around the Slytherin end of the field.

Hermione was still puzzled by their conversation from the previous night. What had he meant, that there was more to him? His behavior had been rather strange. The way he had left so _abruptly_. It was almost as if he had been _offended_.

Fumbling around in her robes for her omnioculars that Harry had bought for her at the World Cup, Hermione told herself that she could never have offended Draco. He wouldn't have let her offend him. _But still_, she thought as she studied him through the omnioculars, _he may have been right_. Perhaps there _was_ more to the heartless bastard.

She couldn't keep from blushing as she saw how handsome he was in his uniform. With the wind blowing his green robes over his broad shoulders, he looked like a gallant prince on a noble, black… broomstick.

As she watched, Draco's face suddenly changed from a state of intense concentration to completely outraged. With the crowd roaring around her, Hermione barely heard Dean announce that Gryffindor had scored another goal. Clicking the replay action button, Hermione watched as Draco's eyes went wide, and his mouth formed the words, "YOU IDIOT!"

Chuckling, Hermione played the action back again, and again, and again… and then once more in slow motion-

"POTTER'S SPOTTED THE SNITCH! HE'S GOING AFTER IT! WAIT A SECOND- MALFOY IS GAINING! WHAT KIND OF BROOM _IS _THAT! THEY'RE NECK AND NECK NOW!"

Quickly pulling the omnioculars away from her face, Hermione searched the field frantically for the two seekers racing towards the snitch. Her heart suddenly lunged into her throat when she saw them take a sudden plunge towards the ground, both going so fast that they were just blurs of red and green.

They suddenly pulled out of the dive. Draco made a swift landing on the ground while Harry waved his arm about wildly, flying towards Ginny with the widest grin on his face.

"POTTER CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

Hermione covered her ears as the crowd erupted with screams and cheers. Looking back at Harry, she watched as he flew to Ginny, gave her the snitch, and then kissed her passionately in midair.

Hastily turning away, a cold feeling began to settle in Hermione's stomach… a sort of longing that had never been there before accompanied by a stab of envy. She wished she could be in love with Ron the same way Ginny and Harry were in love with each other.

Looking back over the pitch, she saw Draco walking slowly back to the changing rooms, his broom thrown over his shoulders. She could easily imagine him climbing back onto his broom and flying to her in the stands, and they would-

"Hermione!" exclaimed Ron as he ran up to her, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Congratulations, Ron. You were wonderful," she said, beaming up at him.

"Thanks," he replied, his ears turning scarlet. He then caught Hermione off guard and off balance when he kissed her quite eagerly on the mouth. In her stunned state, she could only nod her head a few moments later when he asked her to go to the celebration party with him in the Gryffindor common room.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Hermione was back in her own common room. Having spent a mere ten minutes at the party, she had been overwhelmed by all the noise and sweets and butterbeer. Her head was pounding.

She had just plopped down on the sofa and taken off her shoes when Ron entered the common room, shutting the door behind him.

"Why aren't you at the party?" she asked as he sat down next to her.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, a bit annoyed.

"I'm sorry, but everyone was shouting, and I have a terrible headache."

"I figured as much, which is why I came here. I wanted to celebrate… with you," he said with a sheepish grin, grabbing her hand.

Hermione's heart seemed to melt and break a little at the same time. He was so sincere and sweet… but she didn't love him. Not in that way. And she knew it.

Ron was gazing into her eyes.

"I love you, Mione," he said shyly.

"I love you too," she whispered, ashamed for leading him on. But she had to. She didn't want to hurt him.

His eyes shining with an innocent giddiness, Ron leaned forward and kissed her. Hermione's initial impulse was to pull away, but she didn't. She wanted Ron to be happy… even if that meant kissing someone she wasn't the least bit attracted to.

Luckily, Ron's kissing techniques had improved somewhat. Hermione couldn't fathom how that was possible, considering that they hadn't even kissed since… well, their first kiss.

Overall, Ron was less slobbery, which Hermione was extremely grateful for. In fact, his kissing was actually tolerable. It didn't have quite the same effect that Draco's kisses had on her, for instance, the overwhelming desire that would consume her entire being… but it was bearable.

Or at least it was until Ron's hands started clumsily reaching for her breasts. In his state of eagerness, he had forgotten himself and had pinned her between him and the sofa. When Hermione deterred him from her breasts, his hands aimed lower, trying to get beneath her skirt. Hermione had had enough.

"Ron, please!" she cried, pushing against his chest.

Apparently, Ron had misinterpreted her outburst because he merely grinned and continued kissing her with increased fervor.

In a state of panic, Hermione broke the kiss and pushed Ron off of her and onto the floor.

"Hermione! What's wrong?" he asked, looking utterly dumbfounded.

"Too fast," Hermione gasped, trying to catch her breath.

Ron returned to his seat next to her on the sofa.

"Sorry, Mione. I mean, you're just so beautiful- and- and I thought you were enjoying it-"

"I was! Really! It was just too fast for me."

"Well, don't you- I mean- you do _want_ to, right?"

_No_, her mind responded emphatically.

"Of course, I do! I just need time, Ron."

"Right. Er, I don't mean to rush you or anything, but do you know how much time you'll need?"

_Eternity_.

"I don't know. But I'll tell you when I'm ready. I promise."

"Sure," Ron replied dejectedly, standing up.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked.

"Back to my common room," he said shortly.

"Ron, you don't have to leave-"

"No, really. It's fine. I need to- er- study."

_"Study?"_

"Yes. Study. See you at dinner."

And with that, Ron left. Hermione had just started berating herself but was distracted when she realized that Ron had walked straight out the door without opening it... even though she distinctly remembered watching him walk into the common room a few minutes earlier and close the door behind him. _Someone_ had opened the door while they had been kissing and then left without closing it behind them.

It could have been Pansy, Hermione reasoned. _She_ knew the password. But Pansy had no purpose being there. Draco wasn't even there. As far as Hermione knew, Draco was the only other person who knew the password. It must have been him, Hermione realized. _He saw us_. _He saw Ron and me snogging._

For some reason, this knowledge bothered her greatly.

* * *

"I was so close, Blaise. So devastatingly close," Draco whined noncommittally.

Blaise slammed his glass of firewhisky on the table.

"Will you get off it, mate? That was a week ago," he snapped.

"I was referring to the quidditch match today."

"Will you get off it, mate?" Blaise repeated irritably. "You never beat Potter. You should be used to it by now."

Draco glared at him.

"Thanks, mate."

"Don't mention it. Now, tell me. You've downed three glasses of firewhisky in the last five minutes. Obviously, there's something of _relevance_ bothering you."

For the past half an hour, the same moment had been playing over and over in Draco's mind. He opened the door to the common room to find Weasley on top of Hermione... and they were kissing passionately. A very strong feeling had come over him in that moment... a feeling that was unrecognizable to him. But one thing was clear. He had wanted to kill Weasley... rip him from limb to limb.

Blaise studied Draco with a quizzical expression.

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you, mate? Or do you need a few more drinks?"

Draco downed his fourth glass of firewhisky before speaking.

"I saw Weasle and Hermione together. They were _snogging_," he gritted out.

"That's understandable. They are, after all, a couple," Blaise stated logically.

"You don't understand, Blaise. Hermione seemed to be… _enjoying_ it."

"You do realize that you have referred to the bookworm as 'Hermione' twice now. Perhaps you truly _are_ developing feelings of a more _tender_ nature towards her."

"I highly doubt it," Draco replied, shifting uncomfortably.

"Really? How did you feel when you saw Weasley kissing her?"

"I didn't _feel_ anything."

"Bullshit."

"Fine. I _felt_ like killing Weasle when I saw his hands on Her- the bookworm."

"That's called jealousy, my friend."

"But I _always_ feel like killing Weasle when I see him."

"Then let me ask you this: Besides wanting to kill Weasley, were there any other _emotions_ involved?"

Draco downed his fifth glass.

"Maybe."

Blaise poured him another glass.

"Care to elaborate?"

Draco took a swift glance around the deserted Slytherin common room.

"Blaise, you repeat a word of what I'm about to tell you to anyone, and I will slice your throat and watch you bleed."

Blaise batted his eyelashes.

"You'd do that? To me?" he asked wistfully.

"Just promise you won't say anything," Draco bit out irritably.

"I promise. Continue."

Draco downed his sixth glass of firewhisky, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Besides wanting to kill Weasle, I wanted to steal Hermione away from him. But I also wanted to kill _her_. And yet, at the same time, I wanted to take her to my bed right at that moment and keep her there for at least a week. But there was something else… a hopelessness as if seeing them together meant she would never be mine," Draco admitted, sipping his seventh glass.

Blaise appeared taken aback.

"You've fallen for her," he declared.

"Impossible."

"But you have! You've actually fallen for the bookworm."

"_No_, I haven't," Draco snapped. "I'm just extremely horny and suffering from temporary insanity because of it. I'm going to seduce the bookwork, regain my sanity, and then I'm going to get on with my life…_ without_ the bookworm."

Blaise chuckled.

"Right. Just keep telling yourself that. By the way, I've gathered some very useful information from the lovely Parvati Patil. Not only did I manage to smuggle a copy of the books, but I have also learned that the Weasle has been- oh, how do I phrase this delicately- has been receiving snogging lessons from Pavarti, herself.

_"That son of a bitch,"_ Draco hissed under his breath.

"Wait, there's more. I also discovered that Lavender Brown has been coaching the bookworm."

"Coaching her? For what?"

"She's basically been helping her resist you."

Draco contemplated the situation while slowly stretching his body, crossing his legs in front of him at the ankles.

"Loverboy is being coached by Parvati to seduce Hermione. Hermione is being coached by Lavender to resist _me_. What's your plan of action?"

Blaise smoothed the front of his robes.

"Leave Lavender to me. You just worry about seducing the bookworm and regaining your precious sanity."

**Why I am not the scum of the universe: **Yes, I pinky-sweared. I know. But here's why I couldn't possibly have updated on Nov. 7th: My grandfather died. My family and I had to fly across the country for five days to attend his funeral. In the past month, I've only been home for one weekend. All my free time has been spent making up the school work that I missed. So yeah, life hasn't been that much fun. I'm actually out of town right now. Luckily, the hotel I'm currently staying at has wireless internet. Good news: I will be updating at least twice before Christmas… at least, if all goes well. Before y'all bombard me with reviews full of sympathy, let me just tell y'all that I'm fine. My opah (German for grandfather) had just been diagnosed with cancer and died after the first round of chemo. If he hadn't died when he did, then he would have suffered for a few more weeks and then died. So in a way, I am grateful that he died when he did, but I'm pissed off that he got cancer in the first place. Ok, enough about my life. Remember: No pity reviews. I'm good. But thank you to those who wanted to write me a sympathy note. I appreciate it. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. It has traveled a long ways… on a memory stick.


	10. The Timeless Art of Seduction

**Author's note:** Bad news. This is a really short chapter because the actual chapter isn't finished yet. So rather than keep everyone waiting for the whole chapter that would have been painfully long, I decided to break off the first part because it's completely finished and just let it stand on it's own. Further explanation will be provided at the end of this mini chapter.

**Chapter 10: **The Timeless Art of Seduction

"Hermione! Hermione! Come, quick!"

"Euan, what's wrong?" Hermione asked as Euan Abercrombie, a third-year Gryffindor, ran up to her in the corridor.

"You must come," Euan gasped, out of breath from running.

"Euan, breathe. Now, tell me what's wrong," Hermione calmly urged.

"Millicent Bulstrode… in the library," he managed to wheeze out.

"What about Millicent Bulstrode?" Hermione asked sharply, recalling a very unpleasant memory from her second year that had been caused by Millicent's cat.

"She's got a first-year cornered in the back of the library," Euan said, finally breathing again. "She won't stop jinxing him."

"What section does she have him cornered in?" Hermione asked urgently.

"Er… I think it was Muggle History."

"Find Professor McGonagall and tell her to meet me there. Hurry!"

And without another word, Hermione, wand in hand, headed straight for the library.

* * *

Zach Smith stood at the corner, waiting for his signal. Finally receiving it, he gave two sharp whistles to Terry Boot who was standing at the next corner. 

Terry immediately ran from his post to the next corridor where Blaise was lurking in the shadows.

"_Granger's coming,"_ Terry whispered excitedly to the cloaked shadow.

Smirking, Blaise stepped out of the darkness and walked casually to the library entrance. Draco was waiting.

"The bookworm's on the loose," Blaise drawled.

It was Malfoy's turn to smirk.

"Excellent," he rasped.

* * *

Hermione raced past the entrance to the library, weaving her way through the many tables and shelves to the back section. Such was her hurry that she didn't notice how unusually empty the library was for a school night… or how dimly it was lit. 

Making her last turn around a row of shelves, Hermione arrived at the Muggle History section to find… no one.

She made a full circle, looking in every direction before stopping to catch her breath. There was no sign of a struggle. In fact, there was no sign that anyone had been there. Not a book was out of place… not a cobweb disturbed.

"Granger! Where are they?" Malfoy called, seeming out of breath as he ran down the row of shelves towards her.

"What are _you_ doing here? Where's Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked.

"I dunno. Some kid who reminds me of Longbottom told me that Bulstrode was attacking a first-year," Malfoy replied, appearing utterly bewildered.

"So, I'm assuming Euan also told you that they were in the Muggle History section," Hermione said tiredly, rubbing her temples.

"Euan? Who's Euan?"

"Euan Abercrombie. The boy who looked like Neville. I think he was- Wait! What's happening!" Hermione exclaimed.

The shelves of books surrounding them had suddenly come to life and were… _dancing._ The towering bookcases gracefully glided in and out of each other in an intricate pattern, forming a cubicle of sorts around the Head Girl and Boy. Hermione realized with horror what the bookcases were doing.

"They're cornering us!" she cried. "Quick! We have to escape before they seal us in!"

But they were too late. Every direction Hermione and Draco turned, the shelves had already come together to form a solid wall of books. They found themselves imprisoned in a space no larger than a jail cell.

"I think we're trapped," Draco stated calmly, curiously shoving his weight against a shelf to see if it would budge. It didn't.

"We're _not_ trapped," Hermione said firmly, trying to reassure herself.

"Well, unless you plan on reading yourself out…" Draco joked.

"No, you don't understand. Madam Pince _must_ have heard the shelves moving. And McGonagall is on her way. She's bound to notice that the Muggle History section is missing. They'll find us. Any moment now. Just wait."

They waited. No one came. Ten minutes had passed before Hermione became hysterical.

"I don't believe this! I don't _bloody_ believe this!" she shrieked. "Never did I read _anything_ in _Hogwarts, A History_ about the bookcases _imprisoning_ students!"

"Will you calm down? Someone we'll find us sooner or later," Draco said, sitting on the ground and lounging against the shelves.

"_It has to be sooner!_ I have a _very_ important assignment for Ancient Runes due tomorrow! I still need to review my final draft-"

"Shush! I think I hear someone coming!" Draco suddenly interjected.

Hermione grew silent and pressed her ear to the books.

"I don't hear anything," she whispered.

"Neither do I," Draco replied, grinning as he resumed his relaxed position against the shelves.

Hermione turned around angrily.

"That's wasn't funny, Malfoy," she said coldly.

"I wasn't trying to be funny. I was trying to shut you up. _Apparently_, I failed," he replied irritably.

Hermione grabbed a book off the shelf behind her and began flipping through it as she rattled on.

"Obviously," she began, "these shelves didn't move by themselves. _Someone_ placed a charm or spell on them. I think it's safe to assume that this person only planned on trapping the two of us in here. But how did Euan get involved? Maybe- _What are you doing?"_ she suddenly exclaimed.

Draco had left his comfortably lounged position and now had her pressed against the shelves.

"I just thought of the perfect way to silence you," he rasped.

Anticipating his next move, Hermione raised the book she had been reading in front of her face just as Draco leaned in to kiss her.

He chuckled.

"Very clever, Granger," he said, his grey eyes peering over the top of the book.

"You're lucky it was only a book that saved me," she replied, dropping the book to reveal her wand.

Draco stepped away, smirking.

"Are you really that terrified of a simple kiss?"

"Goading me isn't going to work, Malfoy."

Draco sighed as he looked around them.

"You know, it just occurred to me… this is where we first kissed," he commented.

"No, it's not," Hermione said. "_I_ kissed _you_ in the Potions section."

"Forgive me. I was referring to our first _real_ kiss," he replied, grinning.

Hermione glared at him.

"_You bastard!_" she hissed, unexpectedly launching a book at him.

Draco deftly caught the book and threw it aside.

"_What in bloody hell was that for?"_ he asked angrily.

"Oh, please!" she exclaimed. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't figure it out _before_ you seduced me?"

Draco leaned casually against a bookcase.

"I had rather _hoped_ you wouldn't unmask my ploy this soon."

Hermione was livid.

"_All this!_ Trapping us in here! Using other people to do it! An elaborate, _poorly executed_ plan just to seduce me!" she raged.

"You can't blame me for trying," he said seductively, slowly walking towards her.

"Oh, no you don't! Let me out of here this instant!" she ordered, raising her wand threateningly.

Realizing he had no other choice but to surrender, Draco waved his arm. Immediately, the bookcases glided to their original places. Hermione wasted no time, quickly marching up to Draco and slapping him across the face.

"How _dare_ you try to seduce me on a _school night_!" she fumed.

As he watched her storm down the row of books and turn a corner, Draco became aware of a faint chuckling. Blaise suddenly appeared from behind a bookcase.

"Bravo, mate. Bravo," he drawled, offering Malfoy a lazy round of applause.

Malfoy closed his eyes.

"I'm trying to recall a single moment when I actually thought this pathetic plan would work," he muttered lamentably.

"Desperation can lead a man to foolish acts, my friend," Blaise explained. "Now, come," he said, clapping Malfoy on the shoulder and drawing him away from the bookshelf. "I have a bottle of firewhisky with your name on it."

"Only one bottle?" Malfoy asked miserably as he was led out of the library.

**Why I _am_ the Scum of the Universe:** I said I would update at least twice… but I didn't update at all. I'm scum. I suck. (sigh) My only excuse is that I'm such a perfectionist, and I'm at a very crucial part in the story. That's why I'm taking forever because I'm working on some very, er, plot-pivoting material. That and I ended up being a lot busier than I thought in December. I had to write this chapter in thirty-minute intervals because my sister and brother were visiting from Texas. I could only escape for so long. And yes, I did spend some quality time with myself, doing essential things like staring at the wall, sleeping, and reading Hamlet for my AP English class.

Ok, fine! I confess! I'm hooked on Phantom of the Opera! I've seen it six times in theatres now! I'm obsessed! If I'm not watching the movie, then I'm listening to the soundtrack. God, the phantom is hot! (sigh) The problem is that I've been on such a phantom high that Draco was starting to become the phantom… it was bizarre. That's why it's been taking me forever because I would start going off on these little tangents when I was writing. However, I promise to stop promising that I'll update. And no, I'm not giving up on the story. I would never do that. The story is already written in my head… it's just the journey from mind to type that's gone a bit askew.

Oh yeah. Happy Belated Holidays and New Year!

**And now, I shall humiliate myself:** Another assignment I had over break was to write a love poem in iambic tetrameter with a minimum of five quatrains. Because I'm such a freak, I wrote mine about the phantom because he's the hottest man alive. And here it is:

"O Phantom, Hear My Plea"

Disturb my dreams and fill my nights,

With songs of love and love's delights.

Give me the moon and block the sun,

For night is when our souls are one.

Softly awake all my senses,

Lower all my weak defenses,

Show me in shadow why you hide.

Sing me the music of the night.

Tempt me with sweet seduction's song.

Beside you is where I belong.

In your strong arms, I quake, I burn,

I've past the point of no return.

Behind your mask, true beauty lies.

It's in your voice; it's in your eyes.

From your dark fate, I shall not flee,

And from the world, I'll shelter thee.

Remove your mask, reveal the man.

Across all time, our love shall span.

Spare me the never ending days.

Say you'll love me now and always.


	11. Blitzkrieg

**Author's Note: **I'm so weird. I've spent over a month trying to actually write this chapter, writing and deleting and rewriting and editing and then deleting it all over again. What can I say? It's a pivotal chapter. So, after dwelling over it for so long, I finally wrote it all today in about six hours. I'm really happy with the result, and I hope it was worth the wait for y'all. So here it is.

**Chapter 11: Blitzkrieg**

"He must be desperate! Or mad! Of all the low and treacherous schemes, this was the most pathetic of them all!" Hermione fumed, not noticing the many quizzical stares she was receiving from the occupants of the Gryffindor common room.

Lavender casually continued shining her crystal ball.

"It's all a game to him, Hermione," she explained patiently. "And you're the prize. If Draco seems desperate, it's because he knows he's losing."

_"A prize? Me?_ More like his prey!" Hermione declared angrily.

Lavender set her crystal ball aside.

"Darling," she began patronizingly. "Why don't you do us both a favor and stop your ranting? There are two unsuspecting second years placing a dung bomb in Filch's office even as we speak. Go give them detentions, read a long book, and I promise you'll feel much better," she finished, patting Hermione's hand.

"But- but what about Malfoy? What am I supposed to do about him?"

"Hermione, has the man managed to seduce you yet?" Lavender asked testily.

Hermione frowned.

"No," she replied.

"Well, then! I think you'll be just fine. Now, run along. Those second years aren't going to be _waiting_ for you to catch them."

* * *

"You're going to do it? You're _actually_ going to do it?" Blaise asked incredulously. "What about all that horseshit you gave me about pride?" 

Malfoy smoothed the front of his robes.

"I'm thoroughly pissed off. Pride isn't a factor any longer. One way or the other, I'm going to have the bookworm. And if that means doing 'the other,' then so be it," he said ruthlessly.

Blaise clapped Malfoy on the back.

"It's good having you back, mate. How about a toast?"

"To my triumphant return?" Malfoy suggested, raising his glass.

"No," Blaise replied, raising his glass as well. "To Mr. Softie. May he rot in peace for all eternity."

Malfoy smirked as they touched glasses.

* * *

_The dragon was chasing her through the darkness. Suddenly, she was running through a maze of bookcases. She turned the corner and reached a towering wall of books. It was a dead end. Panicking, she turned and came face to face with eyes of melted silver…_

_The dragon slowly backed her into the corner, steam rising from its flaring nostrils. With no chance of escaping, she was paralyzed with fear as the beast opened its mouth and roared a silent breath of fire. _

_Instead of burning her, she felt waves of pleasure hit her body as the fire grew. Like tongues of flame, the blaze of white heat licked at her breasts as she was slowly consumed by the fire that only intensified with every breath from the beast. She could feel the flames as if they were hands traveling down her body, starting at her breasts and lazily working their way down, stroking her with pleasurable heat…_

Hermione stirred from her dream as she felt actual hands on her body, one massaging her breast while the other slid softly over her knee and settled between her thighs-

"_Malfoy!"_ Hermione squeaked.

Her eyes shot open to find Draco's face looming above hers in the darkness. Glancing down, she discovered to her utmost horror and chagrin that her nightgown was bunched up around her waist… and Draco was completely naked.

Hermione was shocked into action, frantically scrambling beneath his muscular body but to no avail. Draco wouldn't budge.

"Don't struggle, love. It'll be over soon," he rasped, lowering his lips to her neck.

Without another moment of hesitation, Hermione summoned all of her strength and forcefully shoved him off of her and onto the floor. Scurrying to the other side of her bed, she turned up the lamp and adjusted her nightgown.

Meanwhile, Draco had angrily ripped the sheet from the bed and tied it around his waste, holding the excess of the bedding in his hand. Both stood glaring at each other, too furious to speak. Hermione finally broke the tense silence with an indignant tirade.

"I suppose I knew it was only a matter of time before you tried _slithering_ your way into my bed! You low, pathetic _bastard_!" she raged. "I'm sick of your nefarious games of seduction! You will _never_ have me! _Ever!_ I _love_ Ron! I _belong_ with Ron! How long is it going to take before you finally understand that!"

"How long are you going to use Weasle as an excuse?" Draco retorted.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Oh, I forgot. Miss Innocent," he drawled nastily. "You are such a coward!"

"_Me?_ _You're_ the one sneaking into my bed! But please, explain," she invited sarcastically, "How am_ I_ the coward?"

"You may love Weasle," he conceded with disgust, "But fucking him would be like fucking your own brother, right?"

Blushing furiously, Hermione shook her head.

"That's not true!" she cried.

"You're deluding yourself," Draco snapped. "You're using Weasle as an excuse to keep away from me because you know there's something between us. And I do recall two incidents when I could have taken you in an instant if we hadn't been interrupted- _not_ because _you_ rejected me."

"I believe I was drunk the first time and coerced the second! Don't _delude_ yourself into thinking that I want you," she said scathingly. "And I _do_ love Ron! I _want_ to be with him!"

Draco began moving towards her.

"Really?" he asked mockingly. "If that's true, then why was it _my_ name you moaned and not his?"

Hermione gasped.

"_Liar!"_ she choked.

"I came to your room with every intention of seducing you. As I _slithered_ towards your bed, you turned and moaned. I distinctly heard my name on your lips. 'Draco,' you said. Needless to say, I was encouraged-"

"I was_ sleeping_!" she hissed.

"Impossible," Draco insisted, his eyes narrowing. "You responded to me. You kept saying my name. I heard it again when I kissed your neck and breasts-"

"Stop it! Just stop!" Hermione exclaimed, tears shining in her eyes. "It was all a dream! A nightmare! For I would have never responded like that in my conscious state! You are a _loathsome, despicable murderer!"_ she raged.

Draco halted. His face suddenly blanched.

"What did you call me?" he asked in an even tone, his fury barely masked.

"You killed your parents!" she accused. "First your mother! Then your father!"

"_My father_," he began with cold fury, "was a worthless bastard. He worshipped the very ground Voldemort walked on and treated his own family like dirt. As for my mother, she was the only person who ever showed me any kindness."

"And you killed them both," Hermione stated coldly.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Granger, but you're wrong."

"But we saw you! Harry, Ron, and I…We saw you standing over Lucius's body-"

"And if you had arrived a couple of minutes earlier, you would have seen Lucius kill himself."

"But- but Lucius-"

"_Lucius_ was a coward. He knew Voldemort was losing power and planned on fleeing. But Voldemort could sense my father's waning allegiance and gave him an ultimatum. Kill my mother or die. Lucius killed my mother out of fear for his own, pathetic life. When Potter finally defeated Voldemort, Lucius killed himself. If I hadn't found him dead, _I _would have killed him. Unfortunately, I'm completely innocent," Draco finished grimly.

Hermione wiped tears from her eyes as everything Draco told her slowly sank in. Reluctantly, she believed him.

"It was never announced that you were innocent," she said hoarsely. "We all thought-"

"That I was a murdering lunatic because I was the_ son_ of a murdering lunatic. It was never made public knowledge that I was innocent because the whole affair was quietly settled outside of court. Besides, the Ministry, like most people, were too busy to care about the deaths of two Voldemort supporters."

"So you never supported Lord Voldemort?" Hermione whispered, astonished by everything she was learning.

"Not since I was a child," Draco replied coolly. "But don't worry," he began silkily as he came closer to her. "I won't completely destroy your image of me as a _heartless bastard_," he snarled.

Hermione yelped helplessly as Draco grabbed her arms harshly, forcing her against him as his mouth caught hers in a cruel and painful kiss. Her cries of pain were muffled as he shoved her against the wall.

Out of fear and pity, Hermione stopped struggling against the agonizing kiss. Instead, she slowly slid her hands up Draco's firm chest and around his neck. The effect of her response was immediate. The pressure of Draco's lips lightened and the once cruel kiss became feverish and passionate, both of them losing control.

Without warning, Draco abruptly ended the kiss, angrily shoving away from Hermione before storming out of the room, dragging the bed sheet behind him. Hermione felt a tumultuous wave of emotions overcome her as she slowly slid down the wall, too weak to stand.

Tears fell freely from her eyes as she struggled to grasp everything that had transpired since she had awoken from her dream. Everything she had ever believed about Draco Malfoy was untrue. And this realization changed everything for Hermione. For the first time since knowing him, she pitied Malfoy. And for the first time, she admired him.

_He meant to punish me with that kiss_, she thought to herself as she felt her swollen lips. _To have evoked that much emotion from someone who seems so cold… he must care for me_, she reasoned.

Recklessness was slowly overcoming Hermione. She was suddenly tempted to go to Draco's room just as he had come to hers and seduce him. All thoughts of bets and friendship and betrayal and anger were set aside.

However, the impulse was suddenly squelched when Hermione heard Draco slam his door shut, the slamming of the common room door following just seconds later.

Feeling dazed, Hermione turned down the lamp and quietly crawled back into bed, lying awake for a full hour before falling into a fitful sleep.

* * *

A group of first year Slytherins were startled from their game of gobstones when Malfoy came charging into the Slytherin common room, knocking over any pieces of furniture that fell in his path as he went. He stopped in front of the first years. 

"Where's Zabini?" he demanded shortly, towering menacingly over the younger students.

"I- I think he's a- asleep," ventured a brave boy with golden hair.

"_You_," Malfoy snapped, pointing at another boy who was cowering in the corner. "Fetch Zabini. Tell him to meet me in here. He has two minutes. Go!" he barked. The boy quickly scampered off. "As for the rest of you," Draco continued, "I think it's well past your bedtime. Clear out!"

Within a matter of seconds, the first years had disappeared from sight leaving Malfoy alone in the common room. He calmly walked to the mantle, picked up a very expensive vase, hurtled it across the room, and watched with a small bit of satisfaction as it crashed against the wall.

Malfoy quickly picked up the next breakable item within reach, sending it down the same path of destruction as the vase. Soon he moved on to the wooden chairs situated around the room, throwing them against the wall or against another piece of furniture.

As Malfoy grabbed a small, porcelain statue and prepared to launch it, a voice came from across the room, stopping him.

"Oh, please not that one, Draco. It's an antique," Blaise drawled.

Malfoy threw the statue into the fireplace and grabbed a bottle of firewhisky from one of the few tables that hadn't been harmed during his blitzkrieg. He then slumped down into a leather armchair littered with debris.

"I'm assuming Mission: Invade Bookworm was a failure," Blaise commented sardonically as he surveyed the damage, removing his wand from his dressing robe to repair the wreckage.

"Leave it," Malfoy muttered, taking a swig.

Blaise heaved a disgruntled sigh, brushing debris off his own chair before sitting down.

"This better be good. I was having a very pleasant dream starring Lavender Brown when some stuttering idiot woke me up and told me to meet you in here. So, let's have it. Did the bookworm reject you once again?" he asked lightly.

Malfoy's response was an angry roar as he threw the bottle of firewhisky against the wall behind Blaise's chair.

"I'm sensing some anger," Blaise joked.

"_Something happened_," Malfoy gritted out, clenching his fist.

"_Clearly_," Blaise emphasized.

"I- I lost control," Malfoy continued, closing his eyes as if fighting the words coming out of him. "I felt… emotions," he admitted painfully.

"Oh, so you are human. Continue," Blaise urged.

Malfoy rubbed his eyes.

"She knows the truth. Everything."

"About your parents?" Blaise asked incredulously, leaning forward in his chair.

Malfoy nodded jerkily.

"_How?" _Blaise demanded.

"I didn't know she was alseep," Malfoy admitted. "But then she woke up, and we fought. She called me a murderer. And I don't know why... but I told her," Malfoy said with a ragged breath, suddenly appearing exhausted.

"I know exactly why," Blaise said, grabbing a partially eaten muffin off the ground. He set the muffin on the table in between him and Malfoy.

"This muffin, Malfoy," he said, indicating the muffin, "represents your balls. _This_ is what happens to your balls when you fall for a woman."

Malfoy flinched as Blaise brought his fist down like hammer, flattening the muffin with a single blow, simply brushing his hand clean of crumbs afterwards.

"Any questions, mate?" he asked cheerfully.

Malfoyshook his head slowly.

"Excellent. And now a toast," Blaise announced, repairing the bottle of firewhisky and conjuring two glasses. Pouring a glass and handing it to Malfoy, who accepted it reluctantly, Blaise poured his own glass and raised it.

"To Mr. Softie," he said soberly. "May his return be a bit more successful than that of the Dark Lord's."

**End of Chapter Note that Might Explain the Dramatic Shift in Tone of the Story:** Don't worry. This shift to angry, fighting, emotional, dramatic crap isn't permanent. However, the story has changed so much after this chapter that it will never be the same again. I'm not saying it'll lack humor or sex or passion or love or backstabbing or any other scintillating components. But it's not going to be your typical fluff-filled story. I'm stalling right now by writing a long note because I'm terrified of posting this chapter because it's just really different from the other ones. And I must admit, one of the reasons it took me so long to write this chapter, besides being totally swamped with schoolwork and college applications, was because I was actually taking into consideration the suggestions I was getting in my reviews for this story. The problem is that the suggestions were so diverse that I was stretching the story too far into La La Land. It was horrible. But finally, I had to forget about what reviewers were saying they wanted or didn't want and focus on the actual story and what I, the author, felt was necessary. The idea for this chapter is one of the things that first inspired the story. I'm so happy to see it realized. Ok, fine. I'll stop stalling. Go bash me with your mean reviews.

**Wait! Speaking of Mean Reviews!** Ok, I never mention individual reviews but this one has got to be addressed. Someone referring to themselves as Kiss This wrote, "You are a fuckin bitch author." Now, what I'm a little torn on is whether I should consider that a compliment or an insult. I mean, is this person calling me a fucking bitch or saying that I'm a fuckin bitchin author. If any future reviewers plan on calling me a bitch, please do so in a literate fashion and remember this quote that I once saw on the front of a t-shirt:

"I'm not _a_ bitch, I'm _the_ bitch, and that's _Miss_ Bitch to you."

Lol. How adorable.


	12. Change of Heart

**Author's Note: **Er, yeah. I hope this chapter is long enough for you. Lol. Ok, I'm just stalling. Go read.

**Quick Recap:** (Thanks to Blood Rust for the idea)-Ron's been "studying" with Parvati. Hermione and Draco had a fight after he tried to seduce her yet again. She discovers the truth about his parents' deaths. And Ron is still an idiot.

**Chapter 12:** **Change of Heart**

There were only two weeks left until the costume ball. It was also the day before the first Hogsmeade trip. Naturally, all the students were buzzing with costume ideas and gossip as they entered Professor McGonagall's classroom for their N.E.W.T.'s level Transfiguration class.

Hermione found it difficult to participate in her classmates' excitement as she sat down next to Ron and Harry at their usual desk in the front of the classroom. She hadn't given much thought to costume ideas or who was going with whom or the usual topics that had sprung up in general conversation. For the past week, Draco had been ignoring her… and that was all her mind could focus on.

She had tried escaping to the library and throwing herself into homework and books, but her usual methods of distraction weren't working. To make matters worse, Ron had been increasingly adamant about consummating their relationship, and Hermione was running out of plausible excuses to avoid any sort of intimacy with him.

Hermione became suddenly alert as Draco walked into the classroom followed by Pansy Parkinson. She tried to ignore the leap of jealousy in her heart as she watched them sit down together in the back with the other Slytherins.

"What about Romeo and Juliet for costumes?" Ron suggested, stirring Hermione from her dark thoughts.

"I think going as star-crossed lovers would be… _romantic_," he continued suavely.

"They both die in the end, Ronald," Hermione replied stiffly.

Ron's ears turned bright red.

"Oh. Right," he said sheepishly.

"Your attention, please!" McGonagall's voice suddenly rang.

The class immediately grew silent.

"While I do understand that upcoming events have sparked your interest, please save any chatter not pertaining to transfiguration for outside of my class. And now I bring your attention to an upcoming event that I fear will bring you less excitement. I am, of course, referring to your N.E.W.T.'s examinations."

Hermione was the only student who seemed to perk up at the mention of examinations. Meanwhile, groans could be heard spreading across the rest of the classroom.

"I mentioned at the start of classes," McGonagall continued, "that most of this year's curriculum was mainly review in preparation for exams. Today, we'll be reviewing switching spells. More specifically, we will be performing cross-species switching spells. I see that _most_ of you," she eyed Neville sharply, who gulped, "followed my instructions from our last meeting and brought your animal to class today. I would like each of you to find a partner with a different type of animal. For instance, if you have a toad, find someone with either a cat or an owl. You will then transform your animal into that of your partner's. I will assess your progress at the end of the hour. Hopefully, you've retained some information from your 4th year. If there are no questions, you may begin."

Harry automatically left his chair to find a partner as Ron turned eagerly to Hermione, wand at the ready. Already dreading the next hour, Hermione slowly pulled out her wand and then stopped at the sound of McGonagall's voice.

"Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy. A moment, please," she ordered.

Heart racing in anticipation of being near Malfoy for the first time since their fight, Hermione walked with trembling knees to McGonagall's desk. A few moments later, Malfoy swaggered forward and stood silently beside her. The tension was palpable.

"I have received order confirmations from the stores you had listed on the budget," McGonagall began. "Are there any other expenses that were not listed?"

"No, professor," Hermione replied steadily.

"Very well. Regarding the actual night of the ball: Do you plan on attending together?"

"No, professor," Draco quickly cut in. "I believe Granger and I both have _separate_ itineraries for the evening."

Hermione felt her cheeks burn at this subtle offense.

"Very well," McGonagall repeated, eyeing them both. "The orders are expected to arrive the morning of the ball. I expect both of you to be in the Great Hall to decorate at noon. The hall will be closed to everyone else until the ball starts. I ask that you be discreet about your plans."

Both Hermione and Draco nodded their consent and started to leave.

"Oh, and Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall interjected. "I am happy to report that your request did go through."

"Thank you, Professor," Malfoy replied, showing no change of emotion.

Without even glancing in Hermione's direction, he swaggered back to his seat beside Pansy and pulled out his wand. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Hermione returned to her seat beside an anxiously awaiting Ron.

* * *

"I think that bastard is cheating on me!" Ginny exclaimed, slamming the door to the common room. 

Hermione looked up from her book as the furious redhead plopped down angrily on the sofa.

"Look what I found! _Just look!"_ Ginny cried, tossing a balled up a piece of parchment at Hermione. Unfolding it, Hermione read aloud:

_"Hello, Lover_

_Let's meet at our usual place. Midnight._

_Love,_

_Parvati"_

"The bitch even put little hearts over her 'i's," Ginny hissed.

"Where did you find this?" Hermione asked.

Ginny had conjured some tissues and was loudly blowing her nose.

"It was after dinner. I went to see Harry in the common room. He was already there with Ron, who left as soon as I showed up. Harry said he had to finish an essay and left too. That's when I noticed this note on his chair. Why would Harry do this me! And with Parvati!_ Parvati!"_ she burst out hysterically.

"Ginny, I don't think you should jump to conclusions. This note could have easily been left in the same chair by someone else," Hermione reasoned.

"If that's true, then why haven't we shagged in over a week!"

Hermione blushed.

"Well, I'm not sure-"

"Because Harry's cheating on me! That's the only reason that explains this note and why he's been avoiding me! And to think that I almost told him about you and Malfoy," she added slyly.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

"_WHAT?"_ she exclaimed hysterically.

Ginny sniffled.

"Not that I _would_ have told him-"

"_How did you even know about Malfoy in the first place?"_ Hermione cried.

"Oh, right. That. Well, I," Ginny mumbled nervously.

"You _what?_ _What happened?_ Does anyone else know? Oh, God! Does Ron know?"

"Hermione, calm down. I'm the only one who knows besides Lavender."

"_You know about Lavender?"_

Ginny arched a defiant eyebrow.

"Yes, _I do_. No thanks to _you_, of course. I cannot believe this! My boyfriend is cheating on me and my _best friend_ has been lying to me!"

Hermione looked at Ginny guiltily.

"How did you find out?" she asked quietly.

"Well," Ginny began. "I had my earlier suspicions when you confided in me about Malfoy's plans of seduction. After Ron asked you to the ball and you started _avoiding_ me-"

"I wasn't avoiding you," Hermione said defensively.

Ginny's eyebrow went up another accusatory notch.

"Fine," Hermione confessed. "I was avoiding you. But I didn't realize it at the time-"

"_So," _Ginny cut in, "After I realized you were avoiding me, I decided to do some investigating-"

"You _spied_ on me?" Hermione interjected angrily.

"No, actually. I didn't. But I _did_ pay closer attention to both your interactions with Ron and Malfoy. I came to the conclusion that you were avoiding me because you felt guilty because even though you're dating Ron, you're attracted to Malfoy. However, it was Lavender that confirmed my suspicions."

"How did you know she was involved?"

"I didn't. About a week ago, I went downstairs to the common room to study because I couldn't sleep. As I went down the stairs, I heard a voice and then saw Lavender sitting in front of the fire arguing with herself. Since there have been rumors that Lavender is some sort of psychic, I realized after listening in for a few minutes that she was channeling an argument with you and Malfoy. She snapped out of her trance, saw me standing there, and I made her tell me everything. I know all about his seduction attempts. What I still don't know is why you didn't tell all of this to _me_."

Hermione heaved a heavy sigh.

"Ginny, I'm so sorry," she said sincerely. "I would have told you, but your Ron's sister. It's not that I didn't trust you. But I thought you would never speak to me again if I told you that I was betraying Ron."

To Hermione's surprise, Ginny snorted.

"Hermione, please. Have you ever known me to defend Ron? He's an idiot. Besides, I don't think you make a good couple. Everyone thought it was 'meant to be' because you were always bickering. Meanwhile, I always pictured you as brother and sister. Malfoy on the other hand… well, he's definitely not the brotherly figure," she said with a grin.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

"So… you don't hate me?" she asked.

"No," Ginny replied, tears springing to her eyes. "But I do wish you had come to me instead of Lavender. Oh, bloody hell!" she exclaimed, wiping her eyes. "Why am I so emotional? Damn Harry!"

Hermione put a comforting arm around her.

"I still don't think you should jump to conclusions. I am positive Harry would never betray you like that. He loves you too much."

Ginny sniffed.

"Thanks," she said.

"Will you promise me something?" Hermione asked.

Ginny deliberately took her time deciding.

"Oh, fine. What is it?" she finally asked.

"Promise me you won't say anything about Malfoy."

"Only if you promise not to mention anything about a note to Harry," Ginny said with a small smile.

Hermione smiled back.

"I promise."

* * *

"After careful consideration, Harry and I have decided to go as Caesar and Cleopatra," Ginny announced to Ron and Hermione as the four of them walked past the gates of Hogwarts towards Hogsmeade. 

"Who are you and Ron going as, Hermione?" Harry asked as he gently pulled Ginny's arm through his, missing the annoyance on Ginny's face.

Hermione hadn't given the subject matter much thought. In fact, she hadn't given costume ideas any thought at all. Her mind frantically scrambled for a couple.

"Hamlet and Ophelia," she suddenly blurted out.

Harry and Ginny exchanged quizzical side-glances.

"Er, doesn't Ophelia kill herself after going insane?" Harry asked.

"Oh. Yes, that's- that's right," Hermione replied somberly, empathizing with the fictional Ophelia.

"Beauty and the Beast!" Ginny exclaimed. "Ron, you could go as a lion… and Hermione could go as a beautiful princess," she suggested.

"Why do I have to be the filthy animal?" Ron whined.

Hermione didn't care what their costumes were. All that mattered is that she wasn't going with Draco.

It was at that moment Hermione looked ahead and saw the blond Slytherin with none other than Pansy Parkinson. Jealousy slowly stole over Hermione as she watched the couple flirt and grope each other as they strutted along with the rest of the Slytherin bunch.

"Couldn't I be a handsome prince?" Ron suggested hopefully.

"A prince, yes," Ginny replied. "A handsome prince? No."

"Very funny," Ron snapped. "What about a famous wizard or something?"

"You could go as Harry," Ginny joked.

Harry snorted.

"I'll even lend you my glasses, mate," he offered, grinning.

"Do you have any more ideas, Mione?" Ron asked, ignoring the other two.

"What?" she said, tearing her eyes away from Draco.

"Costume ideas. Do you have any?" Ron repeated.

"Oh. Well, let's see. I could go as Titania, and you could be Oberon," she suggested half-heartedly, quickly returning her attention to Draco and Pansy.

"Who's Oberon?" Ron asked.

"He's a king," Ginny replied, her eyes dancing with laughter.

"Really? A king?" Ron asked, straightening his spine regally.

"Yes," she answered, giggling. "A _fairy_ king."

Ron scowled at Harry and Ginny as they laughed at his expense. Hermione was the only one not in on the joke, being too caught up in feelings of jealousy.

A few minutes later, the group arrived at Gladrags to shop for costumes. Without Draco around to distract Hermione, Ron was becoming unbearably annoying after ten minutes of badgering her with costume ideas.

"I think a king is a great costume idea, Hermione. But a _fairy_ king?" Ron whined. "Isn't there some _other_ famous monarch I can go as?"

Hermione irritably sorted through a rack of costumes.

"Well, Ronald. I could cut your head, and you could go as Charles I," she suggested sarcastically.

Before Ron could respond, Ginny called out to them, coming towards Hermione with several costumes in her arms.

"Hermione, you have to try these on. They're gorgeous! I already have a dressing room waiting for you," she said, giving Hermione a knowing look.

"Thank you, Ginny," she replied, grateful for more than one service Ginny had rendered.

"Do you want me to wait outside your dressing room, Mione?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Actually, Ron," Ginny cut in, "Harry needs you."

As Ginny pulled Ron away, Hermione went towards the back of the store where a witch was waiting to direct her towards a dressing room.

Although there were what appeared to be five small cubicles lined against the back wall, when Hermione opened the door to her dressing cubicle, she found herself in a very large and luxurious room with wall mirrors and a plush sofa.

Hanging the costumes on an ornate wooden rack, she surveyed what Ginny had selected. Hermione's eyes came to rest on a shimmering, sapphire blue dress. Pulling it off the rack, she held it against her and stood before a mirror.

The dress had a toga style… very Greek. Hermione suddenly thought of going to the ball as Circe, the goddess. She would bewitch Draco, seduce him, and then transform him into a ferret.

Giggling to herself, she began undressing. She decided to remove her bra to get the full affect of the bare shoulder. Pulling the dress over her head, she felt deliciously naughty as the silk fabric slid down over her bare breasts and then fell to the floor.

For the first time in her life, Hermione felt like a temptress as she gaped at herself in the mirror. She was surprised at how voluptuous her body appeared. Her gaze finally drifted up to her hair, which was knotted in a tight bun.

Taking out the many hairpins securing the austere hairdo, Hermione gave her head a hard shake and let the riotous curls fall over her back and shoulders. She looked in the mirror once more and was shocked by the transformation. She had always hated her hair for being so unruly… but now, she couldn't help but blush with pleasure when she saw the beautiful contrast the wild curls made with the coolness of the dark blue gown.

Indulging for once in her appearance, Hermione turned to examine herself from a different angle… and then jumped when she heard a loud _crack_ behind her. She backed up against the mirror, looking frantically around the small space. Someone had just apparated into her dressing room.

"Who's there?" she asked angrily.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she sensed someone moving towards her. Her heart started racing when she felt the stirring of warm breath against her lips.

"Draco," she breathed.

She sighed with relief when she heard him chuckle and then glared at him when he suddenly appeared out of thin air, smirking as usual.

"What are you doing here?" she asked shortly, angry because he had frightened her.

"That's funny," he drawled. "From the way you were gawking at me earlier, I had the suspicion you wanted to see me."

"Why, Drakey," Hermione purred, fluttering her eyelashes. "You actually noticed me _gawking_ at you while you were groping Parkinson? I'm impressed," she stated coolly.

A sexy half smile graced Draco's lips.

"You know, I can't quite tell from this distance, but I do believe your eyes turn a bit green when you're jealous," he teased. "However, if all you want is verbal sparring, I'll take my leave-"

"No!" she blurted out, stepping towards him. "Stay," she urged more gently.

Draco slowly perused her body, stripping her with his cool gaze as his eyes traveled over her breasts, her waist, down her legs to her bare feet and then back up again to meet her eyes.

"Make me stay," he challenged.

Hermione blinked, confused by what he meant.

"About the other night," she began. "I wanted to-"

"I didn't mean by talking, Granger," he drawled as he leaned against the opposite wall and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Make me stay," he repeated, a seductive tone in his voice.

Hermione looked at the few feet between them, realizing what he wanted. He was punishing her for rejecting him all those times. She had to set aside her pride and prove she wanted him. She had to pay.

Taking a steadying breath, she began the short trek towards him on legs that felt like jelly. She stopped inches away from him, reaching tentative hands out to touch him, feeling the hard muscles jump under her palms as she ran her hands up his chest and then around his neck. His facial expression didn't change. His hands never left his pockets.

"Interesting," he rasped, searching her eyes. "I have you right where I want you, and you know it. And yet, you're not walking away."

Unable to respond, Hermione dropped her gaze and stared at his chest, not knowing what to do next. She rested her body against him, turning pleading eyes up to his, silently asking for help. Draco remained impassive.

"Don't stop now, Granger. You're heading in the right direction," he said huskily.

Encouraged by the tone of his voice, Hermione slowly raised herself up on her tiptoes, bringing her lips closer and closer to his. With hardly a breath between them, she stopped and met his lidded gaze.

"Say my name," she whispered.

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips.

"You just had to regain the upper hand," he joked, his hands leaving his pockets to circle around her.

"Or let you completely dominate me?" she asked skeptically. "Never."

Draco leaned in to kiss her, but Hermione averted her head.

"It's your turn," she insisted salaciously.

Abandoning his pretense of cool detachment, Draco shoved his fingers into her wild mass of hair.

"Hermione," he practically growled before his mouth crashed against hers in a desperate, lustful kiss.

It seemed like ages since they had been this way. Hermione couldn't get enough of the feeling of him against her. She had missed the heat of his body and his taste. She had missed the way he touched her… the way he was touching her now as his hands roamed relentlessly over her breasts.

The pressure of his lips was more than her knees could bear. She sighed with relief when she felt him carry her to the long sofa and then lay down beside her. Intoxicating heat spread from the pit of her stomach to all over her body as his lips left her mouth and made a searing path to her bare shoulder and then slowly returned to her neck.

His hand suddenly went to the thin strap of her dress, pulling it down until both her breasts were exposed to his heated gaze and burning kisses. She felt a deep moan escape her throat as Draco's lips closed over one of her nipples, his tongue brushing back and forth against it.

Hermione trembled when she felt the hemline of her dress rise up to her thighs, arching herself against him as his hand graced her knee and followed the path of her dress. Her face flushed as Draco's fingers reached her most sensitive place, only protected by the thin underwear she was still wearing.

Throwing her head back, Hermione whimpered at the unexpected pleasure she was receiving from Draco's lips on her breasts and the way he was touching her between her legs. The constant circular motion he was making with his tongue and fingers tips was driving her to the edge. She spread her legs further apart, allowing him more access to her as her hands plunged into his robes, clawing his shirt open. The heat from his bare skin was too much.

"Stop! Draco, please!" she cried.

But he didn't stop. The pressure of his lips and fingertips only intensified until Hermione thought she would faint from the pleasure he was giving her. Her body suddenly tensed, waves of pleasure flowing through her body. She collapsed in his arms, hearing his ragged breathing as she pulled him closer to her.

"Hermione," he rasped.

She gazed up into his eyes expectantly. His lips parted as if about to say something.

"Hermione!" someone called, followed by a loud rapping on the door.

"Mione, it's Ron! Are you all right?"

Hermione let her head fall back, an annoyed sigh escaping her.

"That's my cue," Draco hissed angrily, starting to get up.

"No," she said, grabbing his arm. "He'll go away-"

"Mione!" Ron exclaimed. "If you don't answer me, I'm breaking down the door!"

By the time Ron had finished this little announcement, Draco was already standing and buttoning his shirt. Realizing their rendezvous had come to an abrupt end, Hermione slowly stood and took several deep breaths before replying to Ron's threat.

"I'm still changing, Ronald!" she called irritably.

"Do you need any help?" he asked hopefully.

"No, thank you!" she replied shortly.

"All right," he said disappointedly. "Harry and Ginny want to go to Honeydukes, so hurry up!"

"Fine!" she snapped, hastily smoothing her dress down.

A loud _crack_ suddenly split the air. Hermione whipped around to discover that Draco had apparated. Disappointed and frustrated, she angrily stripped out of her dress and threw her regular clothes on, thinking of ways to kill Ron as she did so.

But as she reluctantly began securing her tight bun with hairpins, her thoughts eventually shifted back to what had happened mere minutes before with Draco. She felt herself blush as she recalled the recent memory, the sensations still fresh to her body. Hermione knew it wouldn't be long before Draco fully succeeded in seducing her. And for the first time, she didn't care. In fact, she'd welcome him with open arms.

* * *

Draco stomped into The Hog's Head, sending his glare around the room until he found Blaise sitting in the back, waiting with a bottle of firewhisky and two glasses. 

Blaise watched with an amused smirk as Draco marched over, plopped down in the chair across from him and began pouring a glass of the liquor. He waited until Draco had downed his second glass before addressing him.

"From the look on your face, I'm assuming you didn't finally shag the bookworm. I hate to say it mate, but this is getting pathetic. Even _I'm_ starting to feel sexually repressed-"

"It was _Weasle_," Malfoy gritted out. "He interrupted us _yet again_."

"That's tough luck, mate," Blaise offered sympathetically, downing a glass.

"I can't do this," Malfoy confessed.

"Of course, you can," Blaise insisted. "The bookworm is right where you want her-"

"You don't understand," Malfoy hissed. "I _physically_ can't do this."

"_What? _You mean-"

"I _mean_, it kills me to start something that I can't finish," he bit out. "If I try to seduce her again, I need to know that there will be no _interruptions_."

"And the only way to secure that situation," Blaise began.

"Is to wait for _her_ to come to _me_," Malfoy finished.

Blaise heaved a sigh.

"That could take ages," he stated heavily.

"Hardly. Besides, I'd rather wait than constantly be around her. It hurts too much," Malfoy admitted.

Blaise smirked.

"Need a hanky, mate?" he said, offering Malfoy a dirty napkin.

Malfoy glared at him.

"I was referring to the physical pain of being around a desirable woman, you git," he snapped.

"Oh, _come on_," Blaise goaded. "There's not an _inkling_ of jealousy? Not even a little _twinge_ in your heart when you see her?"

"_Blaise_," Malfoy warned.

"All right. Fine," Blaise said, throwing up his hands. "But what about butterflies in your stomach? Do you get a tingly sensation-"

"_Silencio!"_

Suddenly, Blaise's lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. Malfoy smirked.

"I'm sorry, mate. You're going to have to speak a little louder. I can't quite hear you," he joked. "Oh, and I believe this is yours," he drawled, holding up Blaise's wand.

Malfoy actually laughed as Blaise silently raged at him.

**Special Note: **Although I originally had about a page worth of author's notes when I posted this chapter, I just deleted them. It seems that people read my comments and assume I'm talking directly to them and not the general public and then lash out at me. I'm a little bummed right now. Usually, I receive so many reviews after I post a new chapter. This time, however, I've received far less and mostly very opinionated reviews. In fact, people have been responding to my author's notes more than my story. I must say, that kinda hurts. So I'm eliminating the author's notes to see if I can get some actual feedback on my story. Hopefully, people we'll start to find my story more provoking than any of my comments.


	13. Down With the Sickness

**Author's Note:** This is a mini-chapter. Further explanation will be provided in an extremely long author's note at the end of the chapter. Enjoy.

**Quick Recap**: Draco is avoiding Hermione and waiting for her to come to him because he can't stand the physical pain of desire any longer. And Ron's still a git.

**Chapter 13: Down With the Sickness**

Malfoy had been sullenly patrolling the halls for twenty minutes when he concluded that wandering deserted corridors at night was a pointless endeavor. Turning around and heading back to his dormitories, he hoped Hermione wasn't having a late-night studying session in the common room. The last thing he wanted was a lecture for blowing off patrol duties. Besides, even the sight of her pouring over numerous books with ink stains on her hands and face was enough to stir his blood.

He sighed with relief when he slowly opened the door and found the common room unoccupied. Quietly, he walked towards his room, unfastening the ties of his robes as he went.

"Ronald, no! _Stop!_ GET OFF!"

Malfoy froze at the sound of Hermione's cries, his eyes snapping to her door, noting that it was ajar.

"Damn it, Mione! What's wrong!" he heard Weasley yell.

"Don't you _dare_ 'Damn it, Mione!' me, you _selfish pig_! You _know_ I'm not ready for this! How many times do I have to tell you!"

"We've been together for a month now, Mione! I'm tired of waiting! I shouldn't have to wait! You say you love me, but you won't let me touch you!"

"It's not always about _you_, Ronald! _This_ is about _me_! _I'm just not ready_!"

"_Prudes_ never are!"

A tense silence was suddenly followed by a loud _smack!_

"Bloody hell, Mione! That hurt!" Weasley whined.

"Good! Now get out!" Hermione snapped.

"Mione, please! I'm sorry! Don't be angry with me. That was stupid of me. I'm an idiot."

"Yes, you are," she replied shortly.

"I love you so much, Mione," he said. "And I promise, I'll wait however long you need. Just don't be mad at me. Please," he finished softly.

Malfoy almost gagged after hearing Weasley's pathetic speech.

"Ronald," Hermione began.

"Will you stop calling me that?" Weasley said irritably.

"_Ron_," she amended wearily. "I'm not angry with you."

Malfoy heard her sigh heavily before resuming.

"I know you're… _frustrated_. So, if you want, we could make a deal."

"A deal?" Weasley asked curiously.

"Yes. I- I promise to- er- to _engage_ in- in sexual intercourse… _after the ball_," she managed to stutter out. "_But in return_, you have to promise to restrain yourself until then. That means no snogging until _after_ the ball. Agreed?"

Malfoy had curled his hands into painful fists.

"Of course, Mione. Whatever you say," Weasley happily agreed.

Gritting his teeth, Malfoy could easily envision the stupid grin on Weasley's face… just as easily as he could imagine pounding his fist into it.

"That's settled," Hermione said. "Er, you should probably leave before Malfoy gets back. Besides, I need to take a bath-"

"Need any help undressing?" Weasley piped in.

"_Ron_," Hermione warned.

"All right, all right. Just teasing. Good night."

"Good night."

Malfoy heard the bathroom door close just as Weasley stepped out of Hermione's room, grinning like an idiot… just as Malfoy had imagined.

However, Ron didn't see a camouflaged Malfoy standing mere feet away as he pranced out of the common room. With a murderous expression upon his face, the Slytherin beast calmly returned to his room, un-disillusioned himself, locked the door, conjured up a bottle of firewhisky, and threw himself upon his bed. Within the next hour, he had downed the bottle and had fallen into a deep and troubled slumber.

* * *

_Sunlight filtered through the treetops over the enchanted forest… he was dancing among the many trees… he felt the warm breeze against his naked body…he heard laughter behind him… he turned… and there she was… it was Hermione… her hair was a wild mass of chestnut curls falling all around her, covering her splendid breasts… he was jealous of the riotous locks… she ran to him, her amber eyes sparkling with laughter… and they danced and chased each other through the falling leaves…_

_A hawkish cry erupted from amongst the trees… his eyes snapped to the source of the sound… there he found a fantastic sight…a hideous creature, half-pig and half-man, draped in threadbare maroon dress robes came charging through the brush riding Buckbeak, the hippogriff, his fiery red hair blowing about in the wind…_

_"Weasle," the Slytherin beast hissed._

_His heart suddenly stopped when a scream ripped through the air…before the Slytherin beast could act, the piggish creature had captured Hermione… and they were rising rapidly above the trees…_

_The scene suddenly changed… he was looking down at the top of the forest… he was flying… he was no longer human… he had a long green body covered in scales and giant wings that were flapping gracefully through the air… he discovered the world again with his dragon eyes and saw his target straight ahead… he beat his wings faster, soaring through a low cloud… he was right behind Weasle… Hermione was reaching out to him… the hippogriff suddenly lurched upwards, sending Hermione flying through the air…_

_The Slytherin beast swooped down, relieved when he felt Hermione land gently on his back… he flew towards the pig-man creature on the hippogriff, sucking in oxygen to feed the raging fire within… the beast saw the look of terror on Weasle's face as he exhaled, fire shooting out of his mouth… the hippogriff and the pig-man caught fire and fell to the ground, mere scraps of burnt bird and pork…_

_"Stupid chicken," the Slytherin beast muttered._

_"Draco?"_

_He turned his head to find that he was human once again and riding his broomstick… and Hermione was safe in his arms…but there was something fluttering in his hand… he was holding the golden snitch… Hermione was smiling at him…_

_"It's all mine," he whispered to her._

_"Not everything," she said with a smirk._

_The scene suddenly changed… he was standing in the doorway to the common room… Hermione and Weasle were laying on the sofa_… _they were both naked, the maroon robes draped over them… Weasle's hands were all over her… she was moaning and writhing with pleasure beneath him…she suddenly looked directly at Draco…_

_"You'll never have me, Draco…"_

_He tried to move towards her… to protest… but he couldn't move… something was holding him back…_

_"Never…" he heard her whisper._

Malfoy's eyes snapped opened. It was still dark in his room. He tried to roll over to read the clock on the wall… but found himself tangled and tied up in his sheets. Slumping back against his mangled pillows, he wiped the cold sweat off his forehead, cringing as he recalled the nightmare he'd just awoken from.

Ripping himself from the covers, he crawled out of bed and groped around in the darkness for his school robes.

Twenty minutes later, Malfoy arrived at the Slytherin common room. With a flick of his wand, he lit a few lanterns around the room. Grabbing a pinch of flew powder from a box on the mantle, he threw it in the fireplace and called Blaise's name. It took several calls to wake Blaise, but his head finally appeared in the green flames.

"You do realize it's almost five o'clock in the morning," Blaise drawled groggily with a yawn.

"Just get out here," Malfoy snapped crankily. "I'm waiting."

Malfoy had paced the length of the room several times before Blaise emerged from his dormitories wearing a black dressing robe and fur slippers.

"A little early for firewhisky, mate," Blaise joked.

"I didn't come here to drink," Malfoy replied.

Blaise took a cautious step back.

"Look, Malfoy. I'm flattered that you'd choose me over Pansy but-"

"Will stop joking around?" Malfoy bit out. "Jesus Christ! Five o'clock in the fucking morning and you still can't be serious!"

Blaise sighed.

"You're right. I'm a terrible friend. Coffee?" he offered cheerfully.

Malfoy glanced at him skeptically and then nodded.

"There's something I need to tell you," Blaise added as he conjured up a cup of coffee and handed it to Malfoy. "You look like shit," he confessed.

"I _feel_ worse," Malfoy admitted, sitting down on a leather lounge chair and taking a slow sip of coffee.

"Really?" Blaise asked, conjuring up a pad of paper and quill. "Why do you _feel_ like shit?"

Malfoy sighed and laid his head down.

"It all started last night. I overheard an argument, _of sorts,_ between Her- _the bookworm_ and Weasle. After drinking a bottle of firewhisky, I passed out and had the worst nightmare of my life…"

Ten minutes later, Malfoy had described in detail the fantastic dream he had had. Blaise was staring at him with sheer horror on his face.

"No more firewhisky for you, mate. _Ever_."

"But this isn't the first time I've had this kind of nightmare," Malfoy interjected.

Blaise eyed him carefully.

"How long have they been going on?"

Malfoy shifted uncomfortably.

"Since I walked in on Weasle snogging Her- _the bookworm_ after the quidditch game… so almost three weeks now," he admitted.

Blaise glanced down at his notes.

"So… Weasley was the pig-man?" he clarified.

"Yes."

"Right," Blaise continued. "You said earlier that you overheard an argument between Granger and Weasley. What were they bickering about?"

Malfoy clenched his fist.

"Apparently, Weasle is as desperate to shag Hermione- I mean- _the bookworm_-"

"Just say her name," Blaise insisted irritably.

"Fine. _Hermione_ made a deal with Weasle. She agreed to fuck him after the ball if he promises to keep his hands off until then. The end," he gritted out.

"Right," Blaise said, jotting down a note.

"What are you writing?" Malfoy grumbled.

"Your biography," Blaise quipped. "Do you remember our first year when you found out Potter had made seeker for Gryffindor even though first years aren't allowed to be on the house teams?"

"Your point?" he asked grudgingly.

"Do you recall feeling envious… or even, perhaps, _jealous_ of Potter?"

"I'm not jealous of Weasley if _that's_ what you're getting at!" Malfoy exclaimed angrily.

Blaise set his quill and pad down.

"Malfoy," he began patronizingly. "The first step of conquering any problem is admitting that you have one. With that said, I'd like to remind you that this isn't the first time the idea of jealousy has arisen. For instance, there was the first time Weasley _interrupted_ you and Granger, and she called you a heartless bastard. Or, even better, the incident that triggered your nightmares… when you walked in and the two of them were on the sofa… _snogging_… and I remember you being baffled by the fact that Granger seemed to be _enjoying_ it-"

"_Blaise_," Malfoy hissed angrily. "To say that I'm jealous would imply that I _care_ about Hermione-"

"And?"

"_And_… I _don't_ care about her!"

"Right," Blaise replied, picking up his pad and quill and jotting down another note.

"I don't!" Malfoy insisted. "I don't care about Hermione, and I'm not jealous!"

"You're only fooling yourself, mate," Blaise said, continuing to write.

"What in bloody hell does that mean?" Malfoy snapped.

Blaise irritably tossed his pad and quill aside.

"It means that you're a _bloody_ waste of time!" he retorted. "You wake me up at 5 o'clock in the morning to repeat the same shit I've been hearing for the past month! Now do us both a favor and just admit that you care for Granger and that you're jealous!"

"Fine! I'm bloody jealous, and I hate it!" Malfoy cried, kicking a table.

Blaise glanced at a clock.

"Excellent," he stated cheerfully. "Time's up. And I can still get in a couple hours of sleep. Cheers, mate!" he called to Malfoy as he returned to his dormitories.

Malfoy remained on the lounge chair in silence for a few moments before standing up and walking over to Blaise's discarded pad of paper. Besides a few scratched games of tic-tac-toe, Malfoy was surprised to find that Blaise had copied most of the morning's conversation. Faced with his own words, he couldn't deny it anymore. He _was_ jealous… and he _did_ care about the bookworm.

Malfoy slowly made his way back to his own dormitories feeling drained and disoriented. Stumbling into his room, he collapsed on the bed just as the gray light of dawn began creeping in through the window curtains. He quickly fell asleep, his dreams haunted once again by a pair of amber eyes.

**An Extremely Long Author's Note:** Because there are so many things I would like to tackle in this author's note, let me just break it down.

1) **Why this is only a mini-chapter**: I've been swamped with school work lately and haven't had the chance to write… and it's only going to get worse over the next couple of weeks because I'm missing a week of school to go to… London! AAAAAAHHHHH! I'm crossing the pond! So yeah, I didn't want y'all to have to wait two months again. Besides, this is only half the original Chapter 13, which means the second half is well under way. I'll do my best to update as soon as humanly possible.

2) **Why it's already Chapter 13 and still no costume ball**: This is my one Draco/Hermione fanfic I plan on writing. Therefore, I want it to be the best I can possibly make it to be. I don't want to just jump to the costume ball and be like, "Yay! They had sex and fell in love and lived happily ever after! Woo hoo!" Just to help you deal with the wait, here's my outline for the next couple of chapters. Chapter 14 is the second half of Chapter 13. Chapter 15 is the ball preparation chapter where they meet in the Great Hall to decorate. And then Chapter 16 will be the ball chapter. This story is probably going to be 18- 20 chapters long, depending on which ending I choose (someone could die… muahahahahaha! Ok, fine. Just joking.) And then probably a short epilogue.

3) **The Weasel vs**. **Weasle Issue:** (bangs head against monitor) I think I tried explaining this in a previous author's note… but whatever. I know his name is Weasley. I know how weasel, as in the rodent, is spelled. However, Weasle is Draco's nickname for Ron. I simply dropped the 'y' from Weasley… and magically, it makes Weasle, which is probably pronounced 'weasel.' And that's just the way I'm handling it. If Draco were calling Ron _a_ weasel, then I'd say that. But he's literally giving Ron the name Weasle. If you don't get it, I don't care. That's just the way I want to do it. So deal with it or bitch to me about it in a review. Either way, I'm not changing it.

4) **Reviews**… **in General: **(sigh) I usually don't comment on just one review, but I just need to clarify something for someone who could possibly fail an AP Brit Lit exam: Hamlet and Ophelia were lovers. Laertes was Ophelia's brother. If you don't believe me, look it up on Sparknotes. Even _they_ know the correct character correlations. Shocking, I know. Next Issue: That was the second time I have ever addressed an individual review. If I have made any other comments, it's in response to several reviews that have bitched to me about the same thing. SO PLEASE PEOPLE: Do not read this author's note and think that you are the only person that triggered it. These things are not personal so don't take them personally. Some of y'all are just a tad too sensitive. I'm sure I just pissed of another group of people by saying that. Whatever. It's inevitable.

5) **Last Issue: **If this chapter doesn't have enough smut for you, then go read another story and please don't send me a review complaining because you didn't get turned on while reading it. I'm not here to service you in that way! This is a fanfic! Not written pornography! So stop complaining to me!

6) **Actual Last Issue:** _Don't_ read my other story _No Turning Back_! It sucks! It was my first fanfic and needs some serious editing! I'm in the middle of editing and plan on updating it with an epilogue some time in the next couple of months! So if you do read it, despite my words, please know that 1) I had a bad editor the first five chapters and 2) It was my first stab at writing fan fiction… or any fiction, for that matter. Okay. I'm done.

Hundred galleons say I get a handful of bitchy reviews bitching to me for being bitchy. Anyhoo, I hope I answered some of your questions and addressed a few concerns. I'll try to do some writing while I'm in London… perfect place to get inspired to write HP fanfic. Yay! Oooo! The Goblet of Fire teaser trailer is out at Go check it out if you haven't already! It's flippin sweet! (Napoleon sigh) It's incredible!


	14. Boiler

**Author's Note: **Sorry it's taken me so long to update. Since I last updated, here's a string of events that have occurred in my life: I went to London; my parents got me a Mini-Cooper for graduation; I graduated from high school; I lost a so-called best friend; and I saw _Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants_. Let's just say it's been a very tumultuous summer thus far. So yeah, I suck. Go read.

**Quick Recap:** Hermione made a deal with Ron to hold off on sex until after the ball. Ginny thinks Harry is shagging Parvati. Draco admitted to himself that he cares about Hermione. And Ron is still oblivious.

**Warning: **This chapter contains graphic material… but don't get your hopes up.

**Chapter 14: Boiler **

The sandwich Hermione had been staring at for the past several minutes began to blur as tears flooded her eyes. She was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open… and it was only lunch.

It had been almost a week since she had made the deal with Ron… and she had lain awake every night since then berating herself for complicating her already complicated life. She had always thought that she would lose her virginity to Ron. However, instead of giving him her carnal treasure, she was going to break his heart.

"Hermione?"

She looked up.

"Oh. Sorry, Ginny. What about quidditch?" Hermione asked, scolding herself for drifting off again.

Ginny raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I was just summarizing everything I wanted Harry and Ron to tell McGonagall at their meeting today. What's the matter with you, anyway? Ron said you almost fell asleep in class this morning."

Hermione sighed.

"I haven't been getting much sleep lately," she grumbled wearily.

"Why? What's wrong?"

Blushing, Hermione returned to staring at her sandwich before speaking.

"I lied to Ron. I told him… I told him I'd sleep with him, but…I don't want to."

Ginny shrugged.

"Well, that's not _so_ terrible. Nothing to lose sleep over," she replied.

Hermione's blush intensified to a rosy glow.

"There's more," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I'm going to dump him after ball. I've had it planned for some time now. But the other night…" Hermione glanced around and then continued in a hushed tone. "He's so _bloody_ relentless. I've rejected him time and time again… but the other night- I dunno… I panicked. I didn't know what to do. So I made a deal with him. I'd… I would sleep with him _after_ the ball if he didn't touch me until then. And now… I just feel so horrible!" she finished, resting her face in her hands, a small sob escaping her.

Ginny sat staring at her friend with a dumbstruck expression.

"Well," she began, "I guess now is the perfect time to deliver partly good news. Harry isn't shagging Parvati."

Hermione removed her hands to reveal her flushed face.

"How do you know?" she asked a bit sniffily.

"I hired Dobby to follow Harry around for a few days," Ginny admitted.

"Ginny! You didn't!"

"Of course, I did. What'd you expect me to do? Ask Harry directly? 'Er… Hiya, Harry. Tell me, love. Have you been shagging Parvati Patil recently?'" Ginny joked.

"Yes! That's _exactly_ what you should have done!" Hermione scolded. "You shouldn't be spying on him! That's unfair to Harry! He deserves honesty!"

"And Ron _doesn't_!" Ginny retorted.

Hermione quickly looked away, glaring at her sandwich as tears once again filled her eyes.

"I know Ron's a bit oblivious," Ginny began sternly, "But even complete idiots like him deserve to know the truth. And the longer you put off telling him, the more you're going to hurt him."

Nodding her head in silent understanding, Hermione wiped a tear away before changing the subject.

"Has Harry's behavior improved at all?" she asked, clearing her throat.

Ginny snorted.

"You mean, are we _shagging_ again? No. He's still avoiding me. How's the Malfoy situation?"

"He's avoiding me as well. And like you, I have no idea why."

Ginny took a sip of pumpkin juice.

"The ball's tomorrow night," she commented.

"Yes, it is," Hermione confirmed softly, glancing over at the Slytherin table.

"I'm assuming _you're_ winning the bet thus far?" Ginny asked, eyeing her friend.

"Of course," Hermione replied shortly. "You would assume _otherwise_?"

"Just checking."

Ignoring Ginny and thinking of her afternoon classes, Hermione decided that she needed to eat at least a bite of her food. Picking up her sandwich, her gaze returned to the blond headed figure sitting at the Slytherin table. He had been avoiding her ever since the dressing room incident, and she couldn't figure out why. She knew he had been angry when Ron had interrupted them for the umpteenth time, but she didn't understand why he was angry with _her_.

"Do you think it's possible…" she began to ask.

"Do I think _what's_ possible?" Ginny said.

Hermione briefly glanced again at Draco.

"Do you think it's possible that Draco could have feelings for me?"

Ginny's jaw dropped.

"What?" Hermione said defensively.

"I dunno what's more shocking," Ginny answered incredulously. "You mistaking Malfoy for a human being or the fact that you called him 'Draco.'"

"I know everyone has a certain preconceived notion about him," Hermione began.

"Preconceived notion!" Ginny whispered a bit hysterically. "Hermione, he killed his own parents! There's nothing _preconceived_ about it. Pre_meditated murder_, perhaps," she joked nonhumorously.

"Draco didn't kill his parents. Lucius killed Draco's mother before killing himself," Hermione explained calmly.

"How do you know all this?" Ginny asked bewilderedly.

"Draco told me everything."

Ginny shook her head.

"He was lying, Hermione. He was just trying to get you to trust him-"

"He wasn't lying," Hermione insisted, pulling a scroll of parchment out of her pocket. "I was skeptical too when he told me. So I sent an owl to your brother, Bill. He looked up the files for me. Everything Draco said is true. He didn't kill his parents," she finished, handing Ginny the note.

Ginny slowly perused the contents of the parchment, her eyes widening as she read.

"Why would Draco bother telling me the truth," Hermione began, "Unless he cared for me?"

Ginny returned the note to Hermione.

"I think the real question is… do _you_ have feelings for _him_?" Ginny asked quietly.

Folding the note and placing it back in her pocket, Hermione ignored Ginny's probing gaze and glanced back towards the Slytherin table. Her brows suddenly furrowed when the boy next to Draco began taunting him, causing the rest of the boys around them to laugh hysterically. Throwing the group a murderous glare, Draco stood up and quickly strode out of the Great Hall.

Preparing to follow him, Hermione grabbed her book bag and braced her palms against the table before checking herself. She glanced over at Ginny nervously.

"I didn't see anything," Ginny said nonchalantly.

"Good," Hermione replied with relief, abruptly leaving the table and running to the Entrance Hall.

She arrived just in time to catch a glimpse of Draco running up the marble staircase. Gathering her strength, Hermione chased after him. Many flights of stairs later, she was running down the corridor towards her dormitory.

Panting and rubbing a stitch in her side, Hermione arrived at her common room and was greeted by a chorus of crashing sounds just beyond the door.

"Draco!" she called breathlessly, stepping into the room.

She cried out in alarm as a glass vase crashed into the wall just feet away from her head.

"Damn it, Granger!" Draco exclaimed, his eyes blazing as he threw another glass vase to the floor. "What are you doing here!"

"_Me!"_ she cried, dropping her book bag and glancing around at the disaster area that was now her common room. "_What are you doing!_"

"Anger management!" he replied, grabbing a marble statue from the mantle and launching it at the wall.

Hermione rushed forward, wand at the ready.

"_Reparo!"_ she cried.

The debris that had littered the common room floor was gone. Every breakable object had returned to its original unbroken state. Draco, however, was still fuming.

"Granger," he gritted out as he grabbed the statue he had just thrown against the wall. "I strongly suggest that you leave. _Now_," he ordered coldly.

Hermione was about to reply when the bell rang, ending lunch.

"I believe that's your cue," he muttered sarcastically.

"I'm not leaving," she stated defiantly.

"But you'll miss your precious classes," he taunted.

"Better _me_ missing my classes than leaving _you_ here to destroy our common room."

"What about your darling Weasle? Who's notes will he copy if you're not there?"

"_I told you to stop calling him Weasle_," Hermione hissed.

"What do you want?" Draco snapped. "Why'd you follow me?"

Hermione started fiddling with her robes.

"I saw those boys laughing at you. What were they saying?" she asked quietly.

Draco leaned against the mantle, hands shoved in his pockets.

"They were giving me shit," he began coolly. "Apparently, my lack of success in my attempts to shag the notorious bookworm has cost me my infamous reputation. The little pricks were just wishing me luck on the last twenty-four hours."

"And _that_ made you angry?" Hermione asked skeptically.

Draco shrugged.

"Among other things," he replied, his eyes wandering to the sofa… the same sofa where he had seen the pig-man on top of Hermione.

"You've had plenty of chances to seduce me before, Draco… and yet you never did. Why is that?" she asked, a small gleam of determination in her eye.

"I've _never_ had a real chance," Draco objected. "You've either thrown a hissy fit or there has been some other _interruption_."

"What about the night I was drunk?" she challenged. "There was nothing stopping you then. So why did you stop?" she asked, exhaling a shaky breath as she stepped towards him.

"I like my women _willing_… not passed out," he stated evenly.

Hermione stepped even closer, their robes barely touching.

"And… and what if I were willing?" she murmured, her heart racing as she gazed up at him through her thick eyelashes.

Draco's mouth went dry as he heard the question escape her lips. Then he glanced again at the sofa… the memory of that day after the quidditch match came back to him… how he had seen her writhing beneath Weasle… just as she had moaned beneath him in the dressing room that day in Hogsmeade. Suddenly, the familiar twisted fury came upon him again. He looked at her standing in front of him, _willing_ and eager. He could see it in her eyes… those damn eyes that had taunted him for so long.

"Willing?" he drawled icily. "I'm suspicious, Granger. Why are you so willing now?"

He watched her fiddle with her robes… and hated her for making such an unconscious gesture so provocative. She glanced up at him again, this time her eyes filled with sincerity.

"I think the reason you haven't been able to seduce me has nothing to do with interruptions."

The muscles in Draco's jaw tightened.

"Really? What do you propose the problem is then?" he asked coldly.

Hermione looked straight into his eyes.

"I think you may have feelings for me," she said softly.

"And what could have possibly given you that idea?" he gritted out.

Shaken by his coldness but not completely discouraged, Hermione reached out and placed a hand on his arm.

"You told me about your parents. You trusted me with the truth."

"I never trusted you, Granger," he snapped, brushing her hand away. "I was just giving you the facts."

"But," Hermione began desperately, "Afterward, you kissed me. When you kiss me or touch me… you can be so gentle at times… You _must_ care for me," she insisted.

She gasped as he roughly grabbed her by the arms, forcing her against his rigid body.

"Forgive me if my seduction tactics confused you," he rasped. "From now on, I won't be so _caring_ and _gentle_."

Expecting him to become violent, Hermione was completely thrown off guard when Draco kissed her, his lips moving with cold, calculated precision against hers. There was no passion or emotion. And yet, her body was so starved for contact that she barely noticed how controlled he was.

Her robes quickly dropped to the floor, followed by her blouse. He knew her body better than she ever would, touching and massaging all the right places. As he laid them both down on the sofa and continued his cool seduction, Hermione could not have guessed the cold fury that had possessed him.

Draco did not see the woman writhing beneath him as he removed her bra and kissed each breast the same way he had done to every woman before her. All he could see was Hermione in Weasle's arms, arcing against Weasle's sloppy kisses and fumbling caresses.

With that driving image, he unzipped his trousers, muttered the usual contraceptive charm before expertly dragging her knickers down her legs and tossing them to the floor.

Her eyes closed in rapture, Hermione gasped as he spread her thighs apart. Recalling the pleasure she had experienced in the dressing room, she waited for his warm hands to bring her pleasure again. Her eyes snapped opened when she felt his rigid manhood against her inner thigh. Dread suddenly filled her chest as she gazed up into his cold eyes.

She reached up, placing her hands against his chest, her eyes flying wildly to his in protest… but a low whimper lodged in her throat as he drove fully into her. He continued to plunge into her, again and again. She tried to push against him, but he gathered her wrists with one hand and pinned them above her head.

The initial pain she had felt at his entry began to fade, leaving a sharp discomfort as he groaned above her, his hips driving faster and faster against hers. She gasped as he drove into her one last time, his whole body tense as he released all of his rage and tension into her.

Without a moment's hesitation, he climbed off of her and began dressing. Hermione laid motionless on the sofa, in shock over what had just occurred. Slowly, she sat up, bending over to grabbed her blouse and bra from the floor. Using them to cover her naked breasts, she glanced up at Draco who was already putting on his shirt.

"You know, Granger," he drawled, bending over to pick up his robes. "That was probably the lousiest fuck I've ever had, but it certainly got the job done."

Leaving his shirt unbuttoned, he started towards his bedroom.

"By the way," he said with an ugly smirk as he glanced back at her. "You were wrong. I could never care for a _mudblood_."

Hot tears filled Hermione's eyes as she watched him leave. She looked down at herself, naked except for her skirt and shoes… and she felt ill. Gathering up the rest of her discarded clothing and hugging them to her, Hermione walked slowly back to her room, sore from Draco's cruel seduction.

Quickly throwing her clothes back on, she quietly left her dormitories, wiping away her tears as she hurried down the corridor. Knowing she wouldn't be able to make it through the remainder of her afternoon classes, Hermione went to the one place she knew she could be alone. Transforming the Room of Requirement into a luxurious bathroom, she spent the afternoon sobbing in a very large bathtub.

* * *

"I'm cured," Draco apathetically announced as he plopped down on a sofa across from Blaise. "Draco Malfoy has returned. Spread the word." 

Blaise blinked.

"And to what to do we credit this triumphant return?" he drawled.

Malfoy poured himself a glass of firewhisky and held it up.

"To the bookworm… my latest conquest," he toasted halfheartedly, downing the glass.

Blaise observed his friend carefully.

"Does this mean your newfound affections for the bookworm have been vanquished?"

Malfoy grabbed the bottle of firewhisky.

"If you are referring to my brief lapse of insanity, then yes. I am the heartless bastard once again," he said tonelessly, taking a long drink from the bottle.

"Excellent. Then you won't be affected by what I'm about to tell you."

Malfoy stopped drinking.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Blaise chuckled.

"It's a curious thing. I was with the lovely Lavender Brown last night. It was amazing. I made the woman go into another dimension… literally. She started channeling a random conversation between the bookworm and her friend, Ginny Weasley."

"And the point to this random tale is…?" Malfoy asked in a bored drawl.

All signs of amusement left Blaise's face.

"Granger never planned on shagging Weasle," he began solemnly. "She's breaking things off with him tomorrow night. She only made the deal with Weasle to keep him away from her until after the ball."

The cold expression on Malfoy's face didn't change… but his mind was reeling. Images from earlier that day bombarded him. He could hear Hermione whimpering beneath him as he ruthlessly used her body as is if she were just one of the many faceless women he had had in the past. And his cruelty had not stopped there. With an inward cringe of self-loathing, he saw again the shattered image of her sitting half-naked and vulnerable on the sofa, looking tearfully up at him as he concluded his assault with the malicious words he had spoken to her.

The sting of firewhisky spraying in his eyes snapped Malfoy from his agonizing reverie. Glancing down, he grimaced when he saw that the bottle of firewhisky was gone, leaving remnants of glass and blood dripping from his hand.

**End of Chapter Note: **I just want to thank all of my awesome readers and reviewers… but mostly the reviewers because I like reviews.

**To all my British readers**: I can't tell you how enraged I am about the bombings that occurred in London. I just want to say that my thoughts and prayers are with the victims of this terrible act and their families. I just wanted to let y'all know that there's support and love coming from around the globe.

On a happier note: Congratulations on winning the chance to host the 2012 Olympics. My friend and I have already made plans to go… even though it's seven years away.

**To all my American readers: **Happy Belated 4th of July!

**And to all my readers: **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	15. Apparent Retrograde Motion

**Author's Note:** I must ask you to set aside your knives and pitchforks for just a moment while I attempt to explain my extreme delay in posting this chapter. Here is the past two months of my life summarized in chronological order: Packed up my entire room; bought, read, and flipped out over _Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_; drove 2,000 miles to Texas; moved into my new home for college; went to Mexico and suffered from food/alcohol poisoning, hold the food; started college; watched as Katrina blew through Biloxi and Pascagoula, MS, where half of my family lives; spent the next week trying to get a hold of my family and surveying the damages that Katrina left in her wake; and... that about brings us up to date. So yeah. Further explanation will be provided at the end of this chapter. But for now... enjoy!

**Quick Recap:** At lunch the day before the ball, Malfoy completely botches things up with Hermione by seducing her in a very cruel fashion. Notice how I don't describe it as rape. If you disagree with me, reread the scene. That's all I'm going to say about that. It's been a couple of months, so just a reminder: There's been a bet going on since September. If Malfoy seduces Hermione before midnight on October 31st, he wins the glory and whoever had their money on that day wins the pot. Hermione only wins if Malfoy doesn't seduce her before midnight.

**Chapter 15:** **Apparent Retrograde Motion**

His face and eyes were illuminated in the pale moonlight, giving Malfoy a ghostly appearance as he stared blankly into the night from the top of the Astronomy Tower. He didn't see the stars or the lake or the Forbidden Forest... all he could see, all that had been haunting him for the past several hours, was the look in Hermione's eyes as he had walked away from her...

Malfoy lifted the bottle of firewhisky to his lips... and paused. It wasn't working. He was almost done with the bottle and still didn't feel...anything. He was completely numb.

Holding the bottle over the side of the tower, he poured the last bit of the amber liquid out. Then he let go of the bottle, watching as it fell into the darkness, hearing a faint shatter of glass a moment later.

"Are you going to jump after it?" Blaise asked sardonically, peering over the edge of the balcony.

Malfoy shrugged.

"I was considering it," he admitted placidly.

Blaise pointed at Malfoy's bloody hand.

"Are you going to heal that?"

Malfoy shrugged again.

"Maybe," he muttered.

"Any emotional scarring?" Blaise ventured.

Malfoy scowled.

"Extreme self-loathing. Or at least," he confessed with a weary sigh, "More than usual."

"Sulking isn't going to help," Blaise patronized, conjuring two bottles of butterbeer and offering one to Malfoy.

"I'm not _sulking_," Malfoy snapped, roughly grabbing the bottle from Blaise. "I'm reflecting upon my current state of shittiness."

"Here, here," Blaise cheered, clinking his bottle against Malfoy's.

Malfoy glared at his friend before taking a long swig.

"_Mmmm_," he murmured appreciatively, smacking his lips. "_Butterbeer_."

"Thought it might cheer you up a bit," Blaise replied.

The two young men stood quietly for a moment, savoring their drinks and gazing up at the sky. Malfoy broke the silence.

"I think I'll perform a memory charm on her," he declared.

"Won't work," Blaise immediately responded.

"Why not?" Malfoy countered.

"For one," Blaise began, taking another sip, "Your memory charm skills leave much to be desired. Remember that muggle at the World Cup? She thought she was Henry VIII by the time you were done altering her memory."

"It was George III," Malfoy interjected. "Besides, that was _three years_ ago."

"_And_ this past summer with your house elf, Belcher?"

Malfoy suddenly blanched.

"Fine. Fuck the memory charm," he stated shortly.

"Smart lad," Blaise praised, clapping him on the back. "You know," he continued, "I've been in your shoes before."

Malfoy snorted.

"You mean, you fucked the first girl you cared about and called her a mudblood afterwards?" he asked bitterly.

"Well... no," Blaise answered. "My crime wasn't as psychologically damaging. However, I did, er, _accidentally_ admit to Lavender that I thought her thighs to be a bit large. I meant no offense by it, of course. But she was furious with me. Didn't come to me for several nights."

"What did you do?" Malfoy asked, for once interested in one of Blaise's seemingly pointless anecdotes.

"_Jewelry_," Blaise stated omnisciently.

"Sorry?"

"_Jewelry_," Blaise repeated. "I gave Lavender an amethyst necklace and matching earrings. We shagged _five_ times that night," he concluded proudly.

Malfoy shrugged off the idea.

"Hermione wouldn't go for jewelry," he said, suddenly the omniscient one.

"True," Blaise agreed. "So, what would the _bookworm_ go for?"

Malfoy was pensive for a moment... then a light of determination suddenly dawned his eyes.

"God, I'm brilliant," he murmured to himself, a smirk curling his lips.

Blaise finished his drink.

"I must say, mate," he began, studying the empty bottle in his hand, "It's rather refreshing seeing you involve yourself in someone's life other than your own. Too see _you_, of all people, caring about someone else is rather inspiring and- Wait! Where're you going?" he called after Malfoy's retreating figure.

"_Away_," Malfoy barked over his shoulder.

* * *

The four house tables and head table had been stored away, leaving the Great Hall empty... except for Hermione Granger. As was her habit, she was ten minutes early to the meeting with Professor McGonagall. 

Glancing at the clock, Hermione realized that Malfoy would be there any minute. She cringed at the thought of him. She had spent the previous afternoon and evening crying and berating herself for being so foolish. Malfoy had expertly manipulated her, _tricked_ her into believing that he was human, that he could care... but she couldn't have been more mistaken. She remembered his response to her inquiry in the common room:

_"I saw those boys laughing at you," _she had said_. "What were they saying?"_

_"They were giving me shit," _he had coolly replied_. "Apparently, my lack of success in my attempts to shag the notorious bookworm has cost me my infamous reputation. The little pricks were just wishing me luck on the last twenty-four hours."_

_"And that made you angry?" _she had asked skeptically

_"Among other things."_

It had been at that moment, when his eyes had wandered to the sofa... he must have decided that he would seduce her, then and there. Hermione realized that now. But she had been blind in that moment, oblivious to his coldness that should have been her warning. Instead, she had let him have his way with her, succumbing to his every move and touch until it was too late to stop him. All he had cared about was winning the bet... and now, he had.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione mentally composed herself as McGonagall walked briskly towards her.

"Where is Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall demanded.

"I'm here, Professor," came a lazy drawl.

Despite herself, Hermione's eyes snapped to the double doors. There was Malfoy, looking as handsome as ever. Without even a glance in her direction, he strutted past McGonagall and stood beside Hermione. She could feel her cheeks burning, her heart racing with fury.

Without preamble, McGonagall launched into her list of instructions for the ball preparation.

"Therefore," she continued, "One person needs to be in here decorating, and the other needs to be in the kitchen directing the house elves." She eyed both of them closely through her spectacles, silently debating on which of the two would be more cooperative with the house elves.

"Miss Granger," she said, finally coming to a decision. "You will stay here and decorate. Mr. Malfoy,_ you_ will be working with the house elves. The Great Hall needs to be ready by five o'clock. Supper's at eight. You should have plenty of time to prepare yourselves. Questions?"

"No, professor," Malfoy replied. Hermione simply shook her head.

"Very well," McGonagall stated crisply. "Good luck... to _both_ of you."

As soon as McGonagall had left, Hermione turned away from Malfoy and pretended to survey the room, trying desperately to control the emotions that were rising within her.

"Hermione," Malfoy murmured.

The intimate tone in his voice caused Hermione to freeze, her stomach suddenly tightening into a ball of fury.

"Hermione," Malfoy repeated, stepping towards her. "I-"

Before he could utter another syllable, Hermione had whipped around, wand at the ready.

"_Bastard!_" she hissed, her eyes blazing with tears and hatred.

Malfoy took a cautious step back.

"Hermione," he began again more tentatively.

Her eyes flashed.

"I'll _hex_ you if you say my name again, I _swear_," she bit out. "If you'll excuse me,_ I_ have work to do, and _so do you!_" she snapped, her control on her emotions slipping further as the tears threatened to fall.

As if sensing her weakness, Malfoy slowly started towards her. For a split second, Hermione was tempted to let him come. But rage and abhorrence overcame every other emotion.

"_You won!_" she snarled, backing away from him.

Malfoy stopped.

"Did you hear me!" she raged. "_You_ _won_. It's over! You can stop now! You can stop everything! The games! The manipulation! _Everything!_"

"Don't," Malfoy quietly interjected.

"I'm surprised the entire school doesn't know by now!" Hermione continued vehemently. "I wonder why you weren't even at breakfast to _gloat_. Oh but wait! I see! You're waiting for tonight so you can announce to the whole bloody school that _you_, Draco _Malfoy_, have finally _fucked_ the mudblood!"

Hermione didn't care that she had used profanity. She didn't care that tears were streaming down her face. She was too furious to care about anything. However, she was catapulted into shock in the next moment when Malfoy did something totally unexpected.

"_This_," he said, a package suddenly appearing in his hands. "This is for you."

Hermione, through her tear-blurred vision, looked curiously at the package then cautiously back at Malfoy as he came towards her.

"As a form of my... _sincerest_ apology," he stated formally, his grey eyes filled with earnestness.

He extended the package towards her, and Hermione automatically accepted it, fumbling for a moment due to it's heaviness.

And without another word, Malfoy quietly departed for the kitchens.

For fear that she might completely come undone if she opened the gift, Hermione performed a vanishing spell on it and continued about her duties. She worked diligently for four hours, drowning herself in preparation for the ball until the Great Hall was brim-full of decorations.

Finally allowing herself to process what had happened with Malfoy, she hurried towards the Gryffindor common room to confide in the one person she could truly trust.

* * *

Ginny was riveted by the time Hermione had finished relaying the events of the past two days. 

"Hesort of apologized, gave you a gift, and then walked away?" she asked bewilderedly.

"I know! He's mad!" Hermione stated shrilly. "He's a heartless bastard one moment, and in the next, he's giving me presents."

"Which, by the way, you haven't opened yet," Ginny noted. " I can't make any speculations until I have the full story."

With a huff, Hermione hauled the large package onto her lap and tore at the wrapping. As bits of brown paper fell to the floor, she sat and stared, her eyes filling up with tears of joy.

"Is that a book?" Ginny asked, joining Hermione on the sofa.

"It's..." Hermione began. But she was speechless. In her lap was a book that she had dreamt about ever since she had first read about it in _Rare Wizarding Books and Artifacts_. Bound in thick dragon's skin, with a silver and gold Hogwarts crest on the cover, was one of the rarest books ever made in the wizarding world... the original _Hogwarts, A History_.

"_Hogwarts, A History_?" Ginny said disappointedly.

"You don't understand," Hermione replied breathlessly, slowly running her fingers over the cover. "There were two copies of _Hogwarts, A History_ made when Hogwarts first opened. This is one of them. I've read all about it. Unlike all the other editions of _Hogwarts, A History_, this one expands every year. It even includes information that the Ministry banned frompublic copies. _And_," Hermione opened the book with flourish, "It's illustrated!"

Even Ginny was in awe as she and Hermione stared at a section of the book entitled "The Grand Gallery," which included every portrait currently hanging in Hogwarts.

"_And_," Hermione continued brightly, "The portraits are synchronized with their originals!"

"So," Ginny said, studying a portrait, "Sir Cadogan is flirting with the mermaid in the prefect's bathroom right now?"

"_And_," Hermione quickly flipped through the pages, "It includes house elves!"

"What about Harry?" Ginny asked.

"Oh!" Hermione shrieked enthusiastically, quickly turning to the index. "Let's see... Potter, Harry... pages 1,574 to 1,600."

"Twenty-six pages?" Ginny gasped. "Quick! I want to see!"

Furiously thumbing through the pages, they came at last to Harry's section. There was a biography and a summary for each of his years at Hogwarts thus far, including pictures of Harry being sorted into Gryffindor, quidditch games, dimentor attacks, Voldemort attacks, Death Eater attacks-

"What am_ I_ doing in here?" Ginny demanded, pointing to a picture of her and Harry snogging after winning a quidditch match against Slytherin.

Hermione read the caption underneath.

"Harry Potter fell in love with Ginny Weasley during his 6th year. They will eventually marry and have six children."

"Six!" Ginny roared. "This book is bloody mad! Five, _maybe_. Don't you agree, Hermione? _Hermione_?"

With some difficulty, Hermione slammed the book shut and set it aside.

"I can't accept it," she whispered, a small sob escaping her.

Ginny couldn't believe her ears.

"After everything you gushed about in the past five minutes?" she asked incredulously.

"It's just another ploy," Hermione muttered hoarsely, wiping a tear away with the back of her hand. "I can't trust it. I thought he may have cared before... but he couldn't possibly-"

"For goodness' sake, Hermione," Ginny interrupted. "If Malfoy didn't care about you, then why would he give you this? If he had given you_ jewelry_, that would have been different. But to give you something this thoughtful and valuable... and for him to even bother apologizing... it seems like a bloody grand gesture to me."

Hearing Ginny's logic, something that Hermione thought had completely died began to reawaken within her: Hope. Hope that Malfoy did feel something for her... hope that they could have a future together... But then memories of the previous afternoon, of Malfoy's cruelness, came back to her, and that hope was dimmed.

" I dunno," Hermione murmured wearily, torn between memories of the past and hopes for the future. "When we- when he-" She sighed in frustration.

"When he took your virginity?" Ginny offered bluntly.

Hermione nodded her head.

"It wasn't a mind-blowing experience like you had expected?" Ginny continued.

"Well... yes," Hermione admitted shyly.

"It was your first time, Hermione. It's never magnificent your first time," Ginny explained.

"Was yours? With Harry, I mean?"

Ginny chuckled as she recalled the memory.

"It wasn't as, er, _unfortunate_ as yours, but it was a bit tragic. The second time was much better though. Besides, Malfoy was rough, which added a lot more discomfort, I'm sure. But I promise you," she said, rubbing Hermione's hand, "If any of the rumors I've heard are true- and there have been many- it will be a world of difference the next time you're with him."

Blushing uncontrollably, Hermione wondered if there would be a next time. She agreed with Ginny that Malfoy had made a grand gesture, but why had he treated her so cruelly to begin with? She could only find one reason. He had done it to save his reputation. She recalled the memory again:

_"I saw those boys laughing at you. What were they saying?"_

_"They were giving me shit. Apparently, my lack of success in my attempts to shag the notorious bookworm has cost me my infamous reputation. The little pricks were just wishing me luck on the last twenty-four hours."_

_"And that made you angry?"_

_"Among other things."_

And that's when he had glanced at the sofa, the same sofa where Ron had first tried to make love to her-

"Oh my god!" Hermione gasped.

"What?" Ginny said.

Hermione quickly stood up.

"He was _jealous_!"

"Who? Malfoy?" Ginny asked.

Hermione's mind was racing as she recalled that afternoon after the quidditch match. She remembered that someone had walked in on her and Ron that day and had left the door open. And she knew it had been Malfoy.

_"And that made you angry?" _she had asked him

_"Among other things," _he had replied

"It all makes sense now!" Hermione proclaimed.

"What _all_ makes _sense_ now?" Ginny snapped.

"No time to explain," Hermione hastily replied, glancing at the clock. "We only have two hours to get ready for the ball."

"Bloody hell!" Ginny exclaimed, forgetting all about Hermione's revelation. "That's how long it takes me to do my hair and makeup! _With_ magic!"

As she and Ginny raced against the clock, Hermione's brain and heart were racing as well. She realized it was only a theory that jealousy had driven Malfoy to use her so sadistically. But if it were true, then he did care for her. And it if weren't true... then her darkest suspicions would be confirmed, that he had only seduced her to win the bet. Hermione had never wished so fervently to be proven wrong.

**The Further Explanation:** So a quick run though- My family in Mississippi is fine. Everyone except one of my uncles lost their homes. A huge tree fell on my cabin. So yeah, it was pretty devastating. But Southern humor saved the day. My grandpa invented a new word to describe the homes destroyed by the hurricane: Flucked. It's "flooded" mixed with "fucked". Because any house that was flooded up to the ceiling is pretty much fucked, so we say, "It's completely flucked." Lol. Just a little taste of Southern culture.

To anyone who has suffered due to Katrina, whether you lost your home or know someone who lost their home, or whatnot, I send my love and sympathy to you.

This chapter was a bit lighter in tone. Wanted to give the drama a break. I'm truly sorry for the wait on this chapter. I was dying to finish it for so long. I loved the reviews I got. I appreciate how so many people got all riled up over what Malfoy did to Hermione instead of angry at me for writing it. It was great.

**Word to the Crazy Reviewers Who Think They _Know_ or Think They _Are_ Draco Malfoy:** (shakes head) I hate to be the one to burst your psycho bubbles... but Draco Malfoy is _fictional_, meaning he doesn't exist except on paper. Therefore, you couldn't possibly _know_ him or _be_ him. There's a reason your doctor gives you medication. You're supposed to take it daily.

**And finally...** If I had a Wall of Shame for reviews, this review of Chapter 1 from Mystery's Wife would be at the top:

_"what the hell is wrong with you?Draco would kill hermione for punching him!actually her hand wouldnt even get close enough because he is a seeker so he has fast reflexes!dont EVER make it seem like hermione is the stronger one again!that is such fucking bull shit!people who write those types of fanfictions should be shot!fuck you!"_

(Chuckles) Lovely.


	16. Mr Brightside

**Author's Note:** I'm so so so so sorry this chapter took me so long. I was going to update on Halloween, spent all weekend trying to, and then ended up crying because I just couldn't write anymore. So then I tried to get it done by my birthday, two days ago, but yeah... that didn't work out. It's just been so exhausting and stressful because I was under a lot of pressure because it's the ball chapter and- yes, that's right. You read correctly. It's the ball chapter... so go read! Now!

**Quick Recap:** I was so excited to post the chapter, I forgot the recap. Okay so... there's a bet. And Draco took Hermione's virginity on a sofa during lunch the day before the ball. Then he gave her the original _Hogwarts, A History_ the day of the ball. And... now its Halloween night. It's the ball. And Ron's a git as always. And... there's a lot of subplot crap that you're either gonna remember or not. So, er, good luck with that.(dashes away)

**Chapter 16: Mr. Brightside**

Hermione expelled a long breath before taking one last assessment of herself in the mirror. She had never been so conscious of her appearance until tonight, and she knew why. Draco Malfoy.

"_Hermione_," Ginny exclaimed comically. "Is that a _figure_?" she asked, staring at Hermione with dramatic astonishment. "I see a waist, hips, and..." Ginny gasped. "Is that _cleavage_?"

"Stop!" Hermione protested laughingly, a deep blush gracing her cheeks.

Dropping her horrified act, Ginny grinned at Hermione, taken aback with complete admiration.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," she gushed.

Hermione definitely felt gorgeous. Deciding to go with Ron to the costume ball as King Arthur and Guinevere, she had chosen a creme satin gown that clung to her breasts and waist and then fell gracefully to the floor in a wide sweep. Hermione blushed again when she glanced at herself in the mirror and noticed the fair amount of flesh that was exposed by the low, square cut bodice. However, the feature she was proudest of was her hair, which she had managed to tame into a mass of free flowing curls. With a crown of golden leaves adorning her head and a gold chain riding low on her waist, she looked every bit as regal as a queen.

Ginny gave a huff and adjusted her black wig.

"Harry better appreciate _my_ costume. If this doesn't get him to shag me, I'm slipping potion into his pumpkin juice."

Hermione took one look at Ginny's borderline indecent, midriff-baring Cleopatra costume and knew that Ginny would have no need for potion.

"Ginny! Hermione! We are now officially late!" Harry called from the common room.

"We'd better go," Hermione said, smoothing the front of her gown.

"We'd better," Ginny lazily agreed. "Because now we're late... _officially_," she mocked.

If the two boys had been impatient, they showed no sign of it as Cleopatra and Guinevere descended the staircase to the Gryffindor common room. Ginny and Hermione couldn't help but grin at Ron and Harry's slack-jawed expressions. The boys were in such a state of shock that they were unable to utter a word until the girls had escorted them out of the common room.

"Ginny," Harry breathed. "You look..." He coughed, trying to get rid of the dryness in his throat.

Hermione bit her tongue to keep from laughing as Ginny gave Harry a sultry appraisal of his Caesar costume and replied huskily, "You too."

Ron was oblivious to this exchange, unable to focus his attention on anything but Hermione even after several trips on the stairs. His concentration was suddenly broken however when Hermione came to a sudden stop.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Go on without us," Hermione called to Harry and Ginny, who immediately complied.

"Mione?" Ron said, sounding concerned.

Somewhere on the stairs, it had hit Hermione that this would be her and Ron's last night together as a couple. Whether or not everything worked out with Draco, she would still end things with Ron... and break his heart in the process. Her stomach churned with suppressed guilt.

"Ron," she began uneasily, looking up at him. But she stopped, not knowing what to say. She suddenly realized that anything she said now would only spoil everything sooner than it needed to be spoiled. Whatever happened tonight was going to happen, and she couldn't stop it.

"I just wanted you to know," she said softly, gazing up into his baffled eyes, "You make a very handsome king."

Ron grinned and straightened his large crown as he leaned in to kiss her. With a surge of fresh guilt, Hermione kissed him back... because she knew it was the last time she ever would.

* * *

Draco stood calm and collected with his back facing the entrance to the Great Hall. With a slight cough, he gained Blaise's attention and slightly inclined his head towards the open double doors. 

Blaise sighed.

"I just looked a minute ago," he whined.

"_Check_," Draco muttered icily.

Irritably adjusting his pirate's hat, Blaise casually peered around Draco, sweeping the room for any sign of Hermione Granger.

"I see Potter and his girlfriend," he announced.

"_And?_" Draco demanded.

Blaise shook his head.

"Sorry, mate. Granger must be lagging behind."

Draco gave a low growl of impatience and smoothed the front of his costume.

"Where's the wife-to-be?" Blaise joked, aware of Pansy's absence.

An evil smirk dawned on Draco's face.

"I finally perfected the Repelling Charm. Every time Pansy comes within ten feet of me, she suddenly feels the need to powder her nose."

Blaise gave a shout of laughter.

"Brilliant, mate! How long do you think that'll last?"

Draco's smirk slipped a bit.

"With _my_ charming capabilities..." he trailed off, weighing the variables in his mind. He finally shrugged. "I'd give it a few more hours."

"If you're lucky," Blaise added jokingly.

"Where's the talented Miss Brown?" Draco inquired.

"Over there, consorting with _her kind_," Blaise said wryly, pointing to a gypsy across the room standing with a herd of Gryffindors. "_Apparently_, _I_ don't _exist_ outside the bedroom."

"Sounds like an ideal arrangement," Draco quipped, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

Blaise suddenly tapped the goblet in Draco's hand.

"Oops," Blaise said with false concern. "Sorry, mate. I was aiming for the arm."

"_Shit!_" Draco hissed furiously, brushing off the orange droplets that had spilled onto his costume. "What in bloody hell was that-"

"She's here," Blaise interjected, pointing over Draco's shoulder.

Quickly composing himself, Draco slowly turned around, his face remaining impassive... until he saw her.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered hoarsely, gazing at Hermione from across the Great Hall. His eyes took in every curve, every curl, every chain of gold upon her body. She was beautiful. An unfamiliar ache formed in his chest as he continued to watch her from afar. Realizing he was staring like a lovesick idiot, he hastily turned away.

"I'm a heartless bastard, and I don't deserve her," he said tonelessly, staring blankly at the empty goblet in his hand.

"Perfect attitude, mate," Blaise drawled sarcastically. "Remind Granger of that fact the next time you see her."

Slamming his goblet on a table, Draco gave his friend a very hostile glare and then continued to brush away the last few drops of pumpkin juice from his costume.

* * *

"The decorations are incredible!" Ginny exclaimed, rushing up to Ron and Hermione. 

"Thanks," Hermione replied with a grin, admiring her handiwork.

Her inspiration had been one of the most frightening places she'd ever been in... the Forbidden Forest. The floor was a sea of black with a thin layer of mist swirling on the surface. Dark trees towered around the perimeter of the room with giant, glittery spider webs stretched between them. Light from the bright, yellowish moon in the enchanted ceiling and the many floating jack-o-lanterns cast an eerie glow over the entire hall.

"I think it's brilliant," Harry declared.

"It's, er, spooky," Ron added warily, eyeing the large spider webs.

Hermione smirked.

"I promise there aren't any spiders," she said, guiding the group to one of the circular tables spread around the room.

Along with menus held up by severed human hands, the tables were decorated with black, moth-eaten cloths and antique, cobweb-covered candles. As Hermione gazed at the fruits of her labor, she smiled, remembering that the severed human hands had been Draco's idea.

She grew nervous glancing at the clock, realizing that she would be dancing with Draco in less than half an hour. The thought of him touching her again, even for an act so innocent, sent chills of trepidation and yearning down Hermione's spine. She wasn't afraid of him... but the emotions his presence brought terrified her. She hadn't even bothered searching for him in the blur of costumes.

But curiosity soon overcame fear, and Hermione found herself scanning the Great Hall for blond hair. She spotted him immediately. Unfortunately, he was sitting down with his back to her.

With a silent huff, she ordered a mince pie and had just finished her last bite when-

"Hermione! Parvati and I need you on a official business!"

Hermione turned in her chair and watched as Lavender Brown came sauntering towards her in her gypsy costume, followed by Parvati. Her eyes slightly widening, Hermione realized that Parvati, disguised as a goddess, was wearing the same blue dress that she had considered buying that weekend in Hogsmeade.

"What official business are you referring to?" Hermione asked patiently.

"It's a private matter," Parvati replied, giggling.

"I only have a few minutes," Hermione explained.

"It won't take long," Lavender insisted sweetly.

With a small sigh, Hermione turned back to her three companions and excused herself... but not before noting that Ron's ears had turned considerably red and Harry seemed completely engrossed in his plateful of food.

Disregarding the boys' stranger behavior, she followed Lavender and Parvati into the Entrance Hall.

"What can I do for you?" Hermione asked, keeping her eye on the clock.

"Nothing, really," Parvati replied. "We just wanted to remind you about the costume contest."

Hermione frowned.

"Sorry?"

"It's a cover," Parvati continued. "For the bet."

"The bet?" Hermione repeated blankly. Then with a sickening feeling, she remembered. "Oh. Right. The bet," she mumbled. "But I never planned a costume contest. There aren't any prizes."

"Oh, but there are," Parvati insisted. "Almost a thousand galleons worth."

"How is that possible?" Hermione demanded. "I never raised that much-"

"Allow _me_ to explain," Lavender suggested haughtily. "The bet ends tonight at midnight. We can't very well announce in front of the entire faculty the winner of a bet involving the Head Boy seducing the Head Girl. _So_, the costume contest is just a cover. At midnight, we'll announce the winner of the contest... but that person is actually the winner of the bet. Understand _now_?" Lavender finished condescendingly.

"Perfectly," Hermione said coolly. "But how do we know who the winner is?"

"That's my job!" Parvati announced perkily, pulling a small leather book out of her parcel. "This book holds all the bets. The name of the winning person will be _revealed_ at midnight."

"May I see that?" Hermione asked, indicating the betting book.

"Of course," Parvati said, handing it to her.

Hermione was amazed as she flipped through the tiny book. From the last week of September to the last day of October, dozens of bets had been placed on each day. Hermione wasn't surprised to find that Blaise Zabini had placed the most bets. She was, however, surprised and riled to find that Neville Longbottom had placed a bet on October 30th.

"It's 8'clock. Shouldn't you be in there?" Lavender drawled.

"Oh! Yes, thank you!" Hermione exclaimed in a rush, promptly returning the book to Parvati.

She hurried back into the Great Hall to find all the Hogwarts ghosts performing a waltz ten feet above the dance floor. Meanwhile, the students and faculty were mesmerized by the silvery bodies gliding gracefully through midair.

Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Hermione stood within the door, cringing at the sound of the musical saws being played by the ghost orchestra . Sir Nicholas had come to her weeks before asking to be the opening entertainment. But she had no idea how extensive it would be. Even the Bloody Baron was dancing.

The performance ended dramatically, with all of the ghosts slowly sinking into the black floor. As soon as the dreadful music ended, the students and staff erupted with applause. The ghosts reappeared and took their bows, Sir Nicholas's head bobbing off in the process.

Hermione felt a queasy sensation in her stomach as she watched the ghosts clear the dance floor. It was time. She slowly walked to the center of the floor, blushing as she felt everyone's eyes upon her. She frantically searched the crowd surrounding her... and then she spotted him.

Hermione coughed to cover up the laughter bubbling in her throat. Draco Malfoy was a knight. Of course, he was devastatingly handsome in his tight, black leggings, black shirt, metallic tunic and sword. But the idea of Draco Malfoy as a _noble knight_...

As Draco came to stand beside her, Hermione desperately tried to hide the grin from her face. Her attention, however, immediately shifted to the small stage that had been erected in place of the staff table. Professor McGonagall tapped on the antique microphone before addressing the hall.

"Good evening," she began. "Your hosts for this wonderful event are our very own Head Boy and Head Girl, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. They will lead the opening dance."

Cheers and whistles commenced throughout the Great Hall, predominantly among Slytherins and Gryffindors. Professor McGonagall motioned for silence and continued.

"We have a very special guest tonight providing the musical entertainment," she announced enthusiastically. She took a steadying breath. "It is my pleasure to introduce- by special request- Celestina Warbeck!"

Almost every female in the hall gasped and shrieked with pleasure, accompanied by a polite applause from the males. Hermione, however, stood frozen in shock as Celestina Warbeck gracefully ascended the stage... and then the music began.

Hermione was jolted from one form of shock to another when Draco clasped one of her hands in his and placed his other hand on the small of her waist. And then, without realizing it, she was dancing.

Finally focusing on Draco, she found a deeply satisfied grin plastered onto his face.

"How- How did you do this?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

"I made a special request," he replied smugly.

Hermione suddenly recalled that day in Transfiguration when McGonagall had called them aside to discuss plans for the ball.

"_Oh, and Mr. Malfoy," _McGonagall had said_. "I am happy to report that your request did go through."_

"You've known about this for over a week!" Hermione accused, smiling despite herself.

Draco grinned.

"True. But if I had told you, it wouldn't have been a surprise."

Hermione blushed.

"You _wanted_ to surprise me?" she asked hopefully.

Draco twirled her around.

"Maybe," he murmured, bringing her in a bit closer than before.

Hermione's blush only deepened further when Draco's gaze settled on her lips.

"You shouldn't stare at me that way," she softly reprimanded. "Everyone's watching us... including Ron."

Draco continued to stare.

"I suppose kissing you right now is completely out of the question," he said smoothly.

A horrified laugh escaped Hermione at the thought.

"Civil war would break out between our houses," she replied, chuckling.

"Slytherins would win," Draco arrogantly insisted.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You're obnoxious," she declared with a small laugh.

"And heartless," he admitted quietly.

Hermione immediately sobered. Looking into his eyes, she slowly shook her head.

"You're not heartless," she murmured solemnly.

Draco held her gaze, searching the amber depths for some lingering sign of the hatred that had once been there. He was relieved and comforted to find only warmth and sincerity.

Hermione casually brushed her thumb over his shoulder, feeling the woven metal.

"Did you know that I was going as Lady Guinevere?" she asked, eyeing his knightly attire.

Draco smirked.

"Just an intriguing coincidence, I assure you," he replied.

Hermione gently cleared her throat.

"Thank you... for the book, I mean," she said, shyly meeting his gaze. "It was a very thoughtful gift."

Draco shifted uncomfortably.

"It was nothing," he said with a shrug. "I saw that your copy was a...a bit_ worn_-"

"You gave me one of the original _Hogwarts, A History_," Hermione interrupted, chuckling in astonishment. "Considering that there are only two copies in existence, I can hardly call that _nothing_."

Draco averted his gaze.

"It's nothing compared to what I did to you," he confessed.

Hermione almost missed a step. She felt as if she had just waltzed into an alternate universe. Surely this wasn't the same person who had called her a mudblood for six years...

"I... I dunno what to say," she breathed, her eyes wide with wonder.

Draco's hand tightened around hers.

"Say that you forgive me," he demanded urgently.

Hermione's eyes cautiously met his. The music had already stopped and other couples were walking onto the dance floor. But she and Draco continued to stand there, staring at each other, one willing the other to forgive them. Hermione wanted to forgive him... to trust him...

She let go of his hand.

"I can't," she said shakily.

Before Draco could think of a response, Hermione broke away from him. He watched as she disappeared into the sea of masked faces.

"That was dramatic," Blaise said sardonically, suddenly appearing at Draco's side.

"I hate this love shit," Draco hissed, rubbing his neck. "My hands are sweaty, my stomach's a bit queasy... I'm like a fucking schoolboy," he complained with disgust.

"Uh oh," Blaise interrupted, looking straight ahead. "_Incoming_."

Both boys froze as Pansy, dressed as Rapunzel, came striding towards them, eyes ablaze with fury, her long blonde mane trailing behind her... and then, as if completely sidetracked, she suddenly turned and headed in the opposite direction.

"A bit close that time," Blaise said with a sigh of relief. "I think she got within several feet."

"Damn it. The charm is already wearing off," Draco replied with dismay.

"On the bright side, Granger doesn't hate you," Blaise said cheerfully, a wide grin on his face.

The muscle in Draco's jaw began to tick.

"Did Lavender _see_ the _entire_ conversation?" he gritted out.

"She can't help it, mate," Blaise reasoned. "Besides, she got choked up listening to you trying to charm Granger. I was gagging, of course-"

"Your girlfriend needs to keep her inner eye out of other people's business, Blaise," Draco warned darkly.

"Correction," Blaise began loftily. "We are not in a _relationship_. Therefore, she is not my girlfriend."

"Oh, right," Draco drawled sneeringly. "You're _her_ sex slave."

"I'm not obligated to help you, mate," Blaise reminded him patronizingly. "I could easily find better company and leave you with the ever so clever duo, Crabbe and Goyle. I'm sure they have a lot more experience in the art of wooing women than I do anyway-"

"Well, what's _your_ strategy, then?" Draco asked impatiently. "Everything was perfect until I asked- no- _begged_ for her to forgive me," he continued discontentedly. "She doesn't _hate_ me, but she can't _forgive_ me? _Why?_"

Blaise scratched his fake pirate's beard.

"It couldn't possibly be because you've spent the last six years taunting her and her friends and then ravaged her on a sofa during lunch... could it?" Blaise suggested innocently.

"What more does she want from me?" Draco angrily exclaimed. "I gave her a priceless artifact, _apologized_ for my behavior, _pleaded_ for forgiveness, made a complete _ass_ of myself- What next? Shall I walk on water? Write her love sonnets? Serenade her in Potions!"

"I believe this is the part where you try walking in _her_ shoes... figuratively speaking," Blaise offered reflectively. "I mean, if you're trying to sort out why she can't forgive you, I think looking at the situation from her perspective would be wise-"

Draco heedlessly shrugged the idea aside.

"Why bother when I can simply ask her?" he snapped. "From now on I'm playing by _my_ rules. If she can't forgive me, then I'll _make_ her forgive me," he stated firmly.

"That's brilliant, mate," Blaise joked. "And how do you expect to _make_ her do anything?"

For a moment, doubt shadowed Draco's face... but he quickly regained his usual confident smirk.

"If _words_ can't woo her," he began resolutely, "Perhaps _tender persuasion_ will."

Blaise snorted as Draco turned to leave.

"Go get her, Romeo!" he called, watching Draco weave his way through the crowd, laughing as the blond knight tossed him a rude hand gesture over his shoulder.

* * *

Hermione had somehow managed to escape to the crowded powder room that was temporarily adjoining the Entrance Hall. She had been sitting at a vanity, replaying the dance with Draco over and over in her head. Pride and fear had prevented her from forgiving him so soon. She was afraid of losing her heart... afraid of being made a fool by the one person that she had hated... the one person that had hated her for so long. 

"He doesn't care for you, mudblood," came a simpering voice.

Looking in the mirror, Hermione was annoyed to see Pansy Parkinson's reflection standing behind her. Not in the mood for a confrontation, she stood up and turned to leave.

"Did you hear me, _mudblood_?" Pansy snarled.

Hermione turned around, a smirk on her face.

"Interesting," she began coldly, ignoring Pansy's question. "I haven't seen you with Draco all night. Not even during dinner. Why is that?"

Pansy looked taken aback.

"I- I dunno," she stuttered, staring blankly at Hermione.

"A pity you failed Charms," Hermione said airily. "Then you might know the reversal spell for an _ingenious_ Repelling Charm."

Leaving Pansy in a state of utter confusion, Hermione mentally congratulated herself as she passed a line of girls primping at their vanities. Finally reaching the door to the Entrance Hall, Hermione stepped out... and was immediately pulled behind a statue.

"_Was that necessary!_" she demanded in a loud whisper, shoving Draco away from her.

"I need to talk to you," Draco insisted.

"_Oh, really?_" Hermione whispered heatedly. "Well, I'm not in the mood to _listen_-"

Draco grabbed her arm.

"You have two choices," he rasped. "You can follow me and make it appear as if we're on official ball business... or I can drag you, kicking and screaming, to the nearest empty classroom-"

"Fine. I'll go," she said shortly. "_If_ you let go of my arm."

Draco released her.

"Now play along," he ordered, stepping out from behind the statue.

Gritting her teeth, Hermione followed him, noting the curious students scattered about the Entrance Hall.

"You said it was_ important_, Granger," Draco stated loudly, inclining his head toward the dungeons.

"Yes," Hermione replied civilly, redirecting her gaze towards the marble staircase. The last place she wanted to follow Draco was into a dark and dingy dungeon. "There's a few students dropping dungbombs on the _second floor_," she lied.

Ignoring the sudden chatter from the group of spectators now gathered in the Entrance Hall, Hermione led the way up the marble staircase to the second floor, entering the first deserted classroom she came across.

"I don't have much time," Hermione announced promptly, eyeing Draco nervously as he closed the door behind him. "Ron's probably worried about me already-"

"I'll get straight to the point then," Draco coolly interrupted. "You said you couldn't forgive me. I want to know why."

Hermione almost laughed.

"What did you expect, Draco? That you would apologize and give me a book, and I would come _running_ into your arms filled with _gratitude_?" she asked scornfully.

"Something like that, yes," Draco honestly replied.

Hermione was dumbstruck.

"I cannot believe your arrogance!" she exclaimed, her eyes gaping in astonishment. "It's almost comical! _Six years_ of snide remarks! _Six years_ of hatred, of calling me a filthy mudblood! And now, one grand gesture from you, and you expect me to- to _swoon_!"

"Then what will it take!" Draco demanded. "Jewelry? More books?"

"You can't _buy_ forgiveness!" Hermione retorted wrathfully. "And you can't buy _me_!"

"There aren't enough galleons in the world to buy you," Draco argued... but the anger was gone from his voice.

Hermione's eyes glistened with tears of frustration.

"You can't do that!" she declared.

"Can't do what?" Draco asked , moving towards her. "I can't tell you that you were the most beautiful girl at the ball tonight."

She cringed with self loathing as the tears began to fall.

"How can I believe you?" she asked bitterly. "You think I'm _beautiful_? Just yesterday, I was still a mud- mudblood," she stammered, her voice cracking.

"Would you believe me if I said I didn't mean it?" he asked, gently pulling her to him. "That I only said it to hurt you because I was jealous?"

"N-No," she sobbed, feebly struggling against his embrace.

"Would you believe that despite all odds, despite our pasts... in spite of myself... that I've fallen for you?" he asked, tilting her chin up until her eyes met his.

Unable to form an audible answer, she weakly shook her head. And as he leaned down to kiss her, Hermione stopped fighting, wanting to believe, in that moment, that everything he had said was true.

She expected him to kiss her with the same fierceness, with the same physical yearning that she remembered. But he held back, merely brushing his lips against hers in a slow caress. He seemed to be savoring the kiss... pleading for access rather than demanding it. The overall effect on Hermione was more persuasive, more devastating than any kiss before it.

Tentatively, she touched her tongue to his lips... and then trembled as his control completely shattered under the contact. He pressed himself against her, sliding his hands down her arms and entwining his fingers with hers. His kiss deepened and intensified as his tongue caressed hers in a continuous battle. There was nothing methodical or calculated or cold about it. And Hermione was completely swept away by the change, knowing that _this_ was Draco... no schemes, no manipulation... only the need to connect, to be close to her.

It was only when he stiffened against her that Hermione was brought back to reality. She was not Guinevere, and Draco was not a noble knight. He was a Slytherin... a Malfoy. And no matter how much she wanted to, no matter how persuasive he was, she couldn't trust him. She had lingered in the fairy tale long enough.

She ended the kiss regretfully.

"I have to go," she said hoarsely, wiping tear streaks from her under her eyes. "Ron will be looking for me-"

"Hermione," Draco pleaded.

"I can't trust you, Draco," she said stonily, moving away from him. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to Professor McGonagall to ask for alternate living arrangements. Hopefully, I can move back into Gryffindor Tower. If not..." She couldn't say the rest. The thought of there being a different Head Girl was too much to bear on top of everything else she had been through in the past two months.

With nothing else to say, Hermione turned to leave... and Draco let her go. He too had been hit with a cold dose of reality. And he knew what he had to do.

* * *

Blaise used his pirate's shirt to blow his nose. 

"That was beautiful," he said sniffily ten minutes later when Draco had finally returned to the Great Hall. "Lavender gave me a play-by-play of the whole scene. You were amazing. Unfortunately, I think I'm getting a cold," he said before blowing his nose yet again.

Draco conjured a goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Take a good look at me, mate," he told Blaise. "By midnight, my muffin will be completely flattened."

Blaise sniffed.

"Your muffin? What in bloody hell-" But then Blaise gasped, suddenly remembering his clever analogy.

"I need you to do something for me, Blaise," Draco said gravely, downing his pumpkin juice and setting his goblet aside.

"Of course, mate. Anything," Blaise replied mournfully.

"Remember that copy of the betting book you smuggled?" Draco asked.

Dumbfounded by the sudden change in conversation, Blaise simply nodded.

"Do you have it?" Draco interrogated.

"Not on my person, no," Blaise replied.

"Get it," Draco ordered. "And then meet me in the library. We have research to do."

Blaise's eyebrows snapped together in bewilderment.

"The library? But, mate. Lavender wanted to me to dance with her again-"

"The _book_, Blaise," Draco barked over his shoulder. "Fetch it and meet me in the library!"

* * *

To be continued... for the drama has only just begun to unfold. Muahahahahahahahaa! Yeah, yeah. I suck, bla bla bla... 

**An Explanation:** If you're interested to know the chronological order of events in my life in the past two months, here it is: I decided that I wanted to go to film school in London; my aunt went to jail; my brother got engaged; I found a mentor/internship; I dropped all of my classes; my great grandmother died (She was like 97. Trust me, 'twas time. I just wish I had had more time with her. However, may she rest in peace,_ finally_.); I saw _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_ twice; I turned 19 years of age; and my aunt got out of jail. (sigh) Wow. What a whirlwind.

**A Show of Gratitude:** To all of my awesome fans. Thank y'all so much for all of your positive and awesome reviews. I know y'all wait a long time between each chapter, and I appreciate it. Just know that I'm going as fast I possibly can. My dream or wish is to have the story completed by Christmas or New Years. But don't hold me to it... Life seems to happen when I place a deadline on anything.

**To my fellow Americans:** Happy Thanksgiving!

**To international fans:** Happy Thanksgiving anyway!


	17. Motioning Still

TA DA!!!!!!! Oh, come on. It's only been- what- 10 months? But hey, at least I'm updating on HALLOWEEN! How festive is that? Oh, just shut up and enjoy the chapter… finally.

**Recap: **Geez, what is this story about again? Oh, right. Hermione and Draco almost shag about a billion times. Ron is cheating on Hermione with Parvati. There's a betting pool involving Draco and Hermione. There's a costume contest serving as a cover for the bet. Last chapter ended with Hermione regrettably ending things with Draco. And Draco sets out on a mission. I'm sure skim reading the story would help, but hey, whatever floats your boat.

**Chapter 17: Motioning Still**

"Either return to your common rooms or to the Great Hall. I will report you to Professor McGonagall later."

"Oh, come on, Hermione," pleaded Ernie Macmillan. "You don't have to report us to McGonagall," he insisted, indicating his partner in crime, a pretty girl from Hufflepuff.

"Ernie, you know the rules as well as I do," Hermione snapped. "It is my duty as Head Girl to-"

"Fine. We're leaving. Thanks a lot," Ernie said coolly.

As the couple left, Hermione distinctly heard the words "bitch" and "lighten up" echo through the corridor. She fought back the tears that had been building up all night and continued on her pursuit.

After leaving Draco behind, Hermione had ducked into the second floor bathroom where she was met with two disturbances. Replaying the scene with Draco in her mind, she was suddenly faced with doubt and couldn't shake off the feeling that she had made the wrong decision. The second disturbance was Moaning Myrtle's unearthly wail that had sent Hermione running from the bathroom.

In hopes of squelching that nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, Hermione had made it her mission to find every snogging couple in the castle and give them detentions. Though she knew it was childish, she couldn't let anyone else enjoy what she couldn't possibly have.

It had been a few hours, and with every couple discovered, Hermione found it more and more difficult to silence her thoughts. Having reached the Entrance Hall, she decided to return to the ball for a final appearance and then retire for the night.

Then she heard it. Over the music came a muted crashing sound. It had come from the broom cupboard just off the Entrance Hall. It was the one place Hermione had not checked in her hunt for snogging couples.

_Who would be thick enough to choose such an obvious place?_ Hermione wondered as she approached the cupboard. Shaking her head at such stupidity, she rapped on the door.

"Whoever's in there, open up!" she ordered.

She heard a few brooms falling and what sounded like two people whispering and shuffling around.

"Open the door!" Hermione repeated.

Greeted with silence, she grabbed the handle and swung the door open. Expecting to find another pair of 5th years engrossed in a tongue war, Hermione was momentarily stunned when she found Parvati Patil struggling to fasten her dress. And there was Ron, blushing furiously as he struggled with his zipper.

All three of them froze. Hermione studied Ron's flushed face and then Parvati's indignant stare. As each moment of silence passed, the tension built up. Hermione's throat seemed to constrict. She felt ill.

"Excuse me," she said in strangled voice. She quietly shut the door, hardly believing what she had just witnessed on the other side. Her mind went into a haze, slowly processing what had just occurred.

"Miss Granger! A word!" Professor McGonagall called, her voice ringing through the haze. Hermione's eyes came back into focus.

"Yes, Professor?" she answered weakly.

"There's a rumor circulating of a costume contest," McGonagall stated sternly, "A _contest_ that Headmaster Dumbledore or myself _never_ authorized. Can you verify the rumor?"

Hermione forced herself to think.

"Yes, it's true, but-"

"Miss Granger, I gave clear instructions-"

"I know, Professor-"

"-_Clear_ instructions that everything concerning the ball had to be approved by either myself or Headmaster Dumbledore-"

"Professor, please," Hermione desperately cut in. She mentally scrambled for an excuse. "You see, Professor, it- it was Parvati Patil's fault- I mean, _her_ idea. She just came to me earlier today and had everything in order. It was such a small, last minute addition, I didn't even think to mention it. I'm sorry for whatever inconvenience my negligence has caused."

Satisfied with Hermione's speech, McGonagall gave a conceding sigh.

"Very well. The costume contest may proceed as planned. However, I expect to be notified for future events, Miss Granger, of any other last minute _additions_."

"Of course, ma'am," Hermione meekly replied.

As soon as McGonagall left for the Great Hall, Hermione's brain went into overdrive. Ginny had been wrong. It hadn't been Harry cheating with Parvati. It had been Ron. All this time, it had been him. And Harry had known.

Hermione was trembling with rage. She turned towards the cupboard but then changed her mind. She couldn't stand the sight of Ron at the moment. Instead, she followed McGonagall into the Great Hall and immediately spotted Ginny and Harry having a heated discussion at a table.

"You're hiding something!" Hermione heard Ginny accuse as she drew closer to the quarreling couple. "Stop lying to me! Just tell me-"

"Stop it, Ginny!" Harry reprimanded, rising from his chair. "You're being paranoid-"

"She's not paranoid, Harry," Hermione coldly interrupted. "You _are_ hiding something."

With a gust of rage, Ginny stood up.

"I knew it!" she snarled. "Ever since I found that note! You're shagging Parvati-"

"No, I'm not!" Harry burst out.

"Yes, you are!" Ginny insisted.

"No, he's not," Hermione countered.

"Sorry?"

"_Harry_ isn't shagging Parvati," Hermione continued coolly. "_Ron_ is. And Harry's known all about it."

A moment of silence passed. Ginny looked dazedly at Harry.

"So then… you never… with Parvati, I mean?" she asked hopefully.

Harry shook his head.

"Of course not," he firmly assured her. "I love you."

Relieved, Ginny smiled back.

"I love you, too."

"Excuse me!" Hermione shrieked, breaking the reunion. "Ginny, who's side are you on? Just because Harry wasn't cheating on you doesn't mean he hasn't been fooling us both this entire time! And may I remind you that Ron has been cheating on _me_!"

Ginny's mood rapidly changed from relieved giddiness to utter fury as she glared across the table.

"Harry, you stupid git! I have been worried sick for the past few weeks, knowing that you were lying to me about something_- _Oh!" she interrupted herself with renewed anger, "And let's not forget the _agony_ I've been through with you ignoring me, in bed and out! How could you keep all this from me?"

"From _you_?" Hermione angrily cut in. "What about _me_?" she remonstrated. "And_ you_!" she fumed, pointing her finger at Harry. "You _let_ this happen-"

"Hermione, listen," Harry said steadily. "I need to explain-"

"_Explain what?" _she exclaimed. "Ron has been cheating on me, and you've been covering for him! My best friends have betrayed me! What exactly could I be missing, Harry! What tidbit of information could I have possibly overlooked!"

"You have to understand," Harry began feebly.

"No, I don't!" she snapped. "I know _exactly_ what you would have done if the situation had been reversed, if _I_ had cheated on Ron. You would have taken Ron's side without a moment's hesitation-"

"That's not true," Harry said defensively.

"Of course, it's true!" Hermione fired back. "Think back, Harry! You said it yourself! That day after Potions when you saw me with Draco!"

Draco. Hermione remembered now that she hadn't dared pursued things with him because she had been too afraid of losing Harry and Ron. The pain of betrayal joined her rage as she recalled every time she had resisted Draco… held back for… for what? For the sake of friendship? A friendship that no longer existed?

Angrily wiping at the wetness beneath her eyes, Hermione left a guilt ridden Harry behind her and headed for the second floor bathroom. Moaning Myrtle would just have to cope with company.

* * *

Having followed Hermione into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, Ginny watched anxiously as her emotionally hysterical friend grabbed a loose piece of stone from the crumbling walls and threw it at a mirror. With a satisfying shattering sound, the mirror cracked, a few shards falling into the sink. Moaning Myrtle merely giggled from her perch above a stall. 

"Er, maybe I should leave," Ginny suggested with feigned calmness.

Hermione slid down the wall to the floor.

"_Bastards_!" she sobbed, bringing her knees up to her chest. "Silly me, so concerned about loyalty and friendship! If I had only known that Ron was with Parvati! And now I've completely ruined things with Draco-"

"_What?"_ Ginny interrupted, suddenly recuperating from watching Hermione break something intentionally. "When did _this_ happen?"

"It was after we danced," Hermione explained tearfully, conjuring a tissue. "He said he had fallen for me and that he'd been jealous-"

"Jealous? Fallen? Whoa! Stop!" Ginny cut in. "You're going to have to start from the beginning. I need to know _everything_ that happened between the two of you tonight."

Although Hermione attempted to give a summary of the night's events, Ginny badgered every detail out of her. By the time she had explained everything to Ginny's satisfaction, the truth had finally occurred to her.

"I've made a mistake, haven't I," Hermione said with a grimace.

"Oh, _no_. Course not," Ginny drawled sarcastically. "Oh, wait. Unless you're referring to Draco- Then yes, you have botched things up quite a bit, haven't you?"

Moaning Myrtle cackled with unbridled glee. Ignoring the ghost, Hermione wiped away the last of her tears and thought back to her last encounter with Draco and everything that had happened since. If her friendships with Harry and Ron had been the only reason she had resisted Draco, then what could stop her now?

"I'm definitely out of my mind," she declared, springing to her feet and heading towards the door.

Ginny darted after her.

"_Please_ tell me you're going to seduce Malfoy," she urged.

Hermione paused a moment before opening the door.

"Yes," she finally proclaimed, a reckless gleam in her eyes. "That's _exactly_ what I'm going to do."

A loud, whiny yawn came from above them.

"'Bout bloody time," simpered Moaning Myrtle.

* * *

Back in the Great Hall, Blaise joined a sulking Draco at an otherwise empty table. 

"Did you tell her?" Draco asked when Blaise had finally sat down.

"Yes. I told her," Blaise mumbled, appearing quite disgruntled. "Mission accomplished. The word has been spread. Tragedy avoided. My work is done."

"Oh, stop your whining," Draco said irritably. "It's not like you were going to win anyway."

"True," Blaise admitted. "But now I'll have to cope with Lavender's wrath for who knows how long because I ditched her all night to do _your_ bidding. Sex will be an utter nightmare-"

"Enough," Draco gritted out. "Merlin, what can she do to you? Chain and whip you?"

Blaise slumped even further into his chair.

"It's the exact opposite, I'm afraid," he grumbled. "I'm only tortured when I'm good."

Draco shuddered.

"Here's something you might find interesting," Blaise continued monotonously, flicking a feather on his pirate's hat. "While conversing with my sex master, she had one of her divine fits. Apparently, Granger discovered Weasle and Patil fucking like rabbits in a broom cupboard."

Draco slammed his fist against the table.

"That son of a-"

_"Drakey!_ _There you are!"_ Pansy Parkinson roared, maniacally charging towards their table.

"I think the charm has worn off," Blaise observed cheerfully.

"_Son of a bitch!_" Draco hissed, knocking over his chair as he made a quick escape into the crowd.

* * *

Hermione stopped Ginny after they had descended the marble staircase into the Entrance Hall. 

"So I'm going to find Draco," she said purposefully. "And… what are you going to do?"

Ginny's grin was positively sadistic.

"Fred and George have just developed some rather nasty jinxes. Harry would be a perfect test subject."

"I didn't hear that," Hermione muttered hastily.

* * *

With a quick glance over his shoulder, Draco realized Pansy was gaining on him as he shoved passed someone dressed as Dumbledore and another person dressed as a muggle's idea of a witch, warts and all. Unfortunately, even the muggle witches wear long robes. A simple trip sent Draco flying, and he landed quite unceremoniously on his knees and elbows. Before he could even recollect himself, Draco turned his head and knew he was a dead man. 

"_Drakey!_" Pansy screeched, rushing towards him. But as if pulled by an invisible string, Pansy, arms outstretched for her attack, suddenly spun around and exited the Great Hall.

Feeling a light tap on his shoulder, Draco looked up and saw Hermione with Malfoy-ish smirk on her face.

"You're welcome," she greeted coyly as she returned her wand to a pocket in her dress.

Draco grinned in surprise.

"I thought I was the knight in shining armor," he joked.

Hermione chuckled and offered him her hand. He reluctantly accepted it.

"This is completely undignified," he muttered as she helped him up. He began brushing himself off. "I still can't believe you performed a Repelling Charm on another student. Brilliantly done. Then again-" he squared his shoulders in a manly fashion- "I was more than prepared to perform one myself."

Hermione snorted.

"Typical male," she noted in an exasperated tone. "My charm will last _days_ longer than yours. You could try thanking me- or dancing with me since I have no partner."

Draco eyed her skeptically.

"Did I hit my head during that fall?" he asked with false concern, feeling his head for lumps.

"You're fine," Hermione assured him with a laugh. Smiling at him, she took his hand and led him onto the dance floor.

Draco quickly took the lead as the jazzy number that was playing transitioned into a slow and wistful ballad. He was perplexed by Hermione's sudden change in attitude towards him… but then he remembered what Blaise had said, about Lavender's vision. If Hermione knew about Ron's affair with Parvati… well then, that would explain everything.

"Where's the charming Weasle?" he asked lightly.

Hermione's smile slipped.

"He's busy," she evaded.

Draco frowned.

"What? No reprimand for calling him Weasle?" he asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice. "That's interesting."

"I love this song," Hermione commented, deliberately changing the subject.

"What happened?" Draco inquired silkily, deciding to test his theory. "Are you dancing with me because Weasle's fucking someone else?" he asked abruptly.

Hermione's eyes widened in alarm as a blush stole over her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it again and averted her gaze.

"I saw him with Parvati Patil earlier," Draco lied. "Don't worry. I doubt anyone else knows."

Hermione pursed her lips and remained silent.

"You don't seem surprised," Draco stated coolly. "I assume this a recent revelation?"

She flashed him a dangerous look.

"It's none of your business," she responded shortly.

"You know," Draco drawled, "If you wanted to get back at Weasle, you could have simply asked for my assistance. There was no need for the act."

Hermione stepped out of his hold.

"Excuse me," she said civilly. "I believe I've taken enough abuse for one evening-"

Draco grabbed her arm. Hermione tried to pull away and failed.

"Let go, Malfoy," she hissed.

"We're still dancing," he declared.

Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm tired," she said darkly. "Now, let me go. People are starting to stare-"

Silently denying her petition, Draco grabbed her waist and dragged her back into the dance.

"I'll gladly be your revenge fuck," he rasped in her ear, his hand tightening around hers. "Is that all you want from me?"

Hermione's heated gaze met his and she slowly shook her head.

"No," she softly replied.

Draco's grip relaxed a bit.

"Then what do you want?" he quietly demanded.

Hermione's eyes burned into his.

"You," she said, just as bluntly as he had that morning in their bathroom.

Without another word, Draco abandoned the dance and led them to a secluded spot behind one of the towering trees decorating the hall. In one swift movement, his lips were on hers. Hermione's body instantly responded, her arms instinctively wrapping around him. Having earlier faced the prospect of never kissing Draco again, she drank in the moment as if it were her last. Breathless, she ended the kiss, burying her head in the crook of his neck.

Draco's lips brushed her temple.

"You've forgiven me then?" he asked in a low voice.

Hermione slowly nodded her head.

"Yes," she replied huskily. She looked at him then, her eyes focusing on his cocky grin. She smiled in spite of herself. "Yes, I have, you insufferable, arrogant-"

Draco's lips silenced her.

"Wait," Hermione breathed, breaking the kiss again. "What if someone should see-"

"Fuck it," Draco growled. And as his lips silenced her for the last time, Hermione discovered that she didn't care either.

"Oy! Excuse me! Could I have everyone's attention, please? Attention, everyone!"

The band had stopped playing, and a glowing Parvati Patil stood in front of the microphone. While everyone turned their attention to the stage, Hermione and Draco reluctantly broke apart.

"It's time to reveal the winner of the costume contest!" Parvati announced, her voice ringing brightly across the Great Hall.

Hermione let her head fall against Draco's chest, not wanting to hear another word. She knew what would happen. Parvati would announce Neville as the winner. Harry and Ron would be furious and never speak to her again- not that she wanted to speak to them at the moment.

"While there were many wonderful costumes," Parvati continued, "The Head Boy, Head Girl and I have reached a unanimous decision. So without any further ado-" Parvati removed a small leather book from her reticule, turned to the last page and hesitated.

Hermione cringed as the room filled with palpable anticipation.

"And the winner is…."

Hermione held her breath.

"Luna Lovegood and partner! The butterfly!"

An unenthusiastic round of applause spread through the Great Hall as Hermione stood frozen in Draco's arms. Surely, she hadn't heard correctly. Leaving Draco behind the tree, she stepped out and watched as Luna pulled a very shy Neville onto the stage. Each was dressed in a white body suit with a large butterfly wing sprouting out of their backs and a single antennae coming out of their heads. As Luna turned and hugged Neville, they came together and made a very fat and lopsided butterfly. Hermione knew that no one but Luna could have created such a twisted and bizarre concept for a costume.

Utterly bewildered by the outcome of contest, she returned to Draco.

"How could Luna win? She didn't even place a bet," Hermione wondered aloud.

"Simple," Draco replied, pulling her to him. "There's no bet."

"How is that possible?" she asked, peering up at him.

Draco arched a single brow mischievously.

"I destroyed it," he replied.

Hermione tilted her head quizzically.

"Aren't bets protected by old magic and therefore indestructible?" she argued.

Draco sighed.

"Tut-tut, Granger. You should know better. Then again, I suppose I can't hold it against you since you haven't yet had a chance to read your latest edition of _Hogwarts, A History_-"

"What are you going on about?" Hermione asked, becoming more confused by the moment.

"Bets aren't legal here," Draco explained. "Hogwarts has special charms to counter any magical protection. If a person of authority discovers the bet- a Head Boy, for instance- then they have the power to destroy it."

Hermione laughed, a blur of emotions sweeping through her.

"But what about the money?" she blurted. "What happens to it? Does everyone else know?"

"The money is magically returned," he quietly replied. "Lavender and Parvati notified everyone. It's as if the bet never happened."

Hermione shook her head.

"I still don't understand," she said. "Why would you do this? You- you had already won-"

"Not fairly," he reminded her, stroking her face. "Besides, it was never about winning."

Tears filled her eyes as Hermione reached out and stayed Draco's hand against her cheek.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Draco leaned in to kiss her.

"You're welcome," his lips whispered against hers.

"_Hem hem_," Lavender Brown coughed loudly. "I hate to interrupt this endearing scene, but I need to speak with Hermione… _alone_."

Awkwardly stepping away from her, Draco sneered at Lavender as he turned to leave. Hermione stopped him.

"Wait for me… in our common room," she said softly.

His sneer instantly melting into a surprised smile, Draco departed with considerable speed.

Lavender arched a finely shaped brow.

"I see things are progressing quite well for the two of you," she drawled.

Hermione crossed her arms.

"You knew all along," she accused. "You knew exactly what was going to happen- That I would lose the bet but Draco would call it off."

Lavender seemed offended.

"_Of course, I knew_," she spat.

"Then why did you tell me that I was going to win?" Hermione demanded.

"It is a strict rule of Divination," Lavender recited haughtily, "That Seers may not intentionally relate visions of future events. I couldn't very well tell you everything that was going to happen or else I may have altered the occurrence of future events. And that's not my place."

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to understand.

"I suppose seeing the future is as dangerous as time travel," she remarked. "But that doesn't explain why you kept Parvati and Ron a secret."

Lavender rolled her eyes.

"Once again, Parvati is my best friend. She's been in love with Ron for ages, so I certainly wasn't going to compromise her happiness for the sake of your pride. I mean, honestly, I thought you were _smart_," she said. "Apparently not. You have Draco Malfoy waiting for you, and yet you're here arguing with me."

Hermione feigned a smile.

"Lavender, forgive me," she began with sham graciousness. "You are a very talented _Seer_. I apologize for doubting you."

"It's quite all right," Lavender replied with grand aplomb. "Now, a bit of advice before you shag that gorgeous man. Lock the door," she ordered. "No need for any more interruptions."

"Lock the door," Hermione repeated.

"_And_… perform the Contraceptive Charm _now_," Lavender insisted. "You'll have one less thing to worry about while he's-"

"A contraceptive charm," Hermione interrupted. "Right. Except… I don't know the Contraceptive Charm."

Lavender snickered.

"You _must_ be joking," she scoffed. "You don't know the Contraceptive Charm, and yet I'm sure you could tell me how to conjure a baboon."

Hermione thought about it for a moment.

"Actually… yes, I could. It's-"

"Dear God, shush!" Lavender exclaimed. "I need you to listen very carefully. You are going to march into the powder room right now and…"

Lavender whispered the rest of the instructions into Hermione's ear.

"Understand?" Lavender said.

Hermione took a deep breath.

"Yes," she replied firmly. "I'm ready."

"Excellent. Now run along," Lavender ordered in a motherly fashion.

She watched almost enviously as Hermione eagerly left the Great Hall.

"Lucky witch," she muttered wistfully. Strong arms suddenly wrapped around her waist.

"Yes, you are," Blaise said huskily over her shoulder.

Lavender slowly turned around and gave Blaise's roguishly handsome pirate's costume a glance over. She sighed.

"I suppose you'll do," she purred.

* * *

Contraceptive Charm completed, Hermione nervously entered her common room, immediately locking the door behind her. The room was dark except for a line of candles floating in the air, lighting a direct path to Draco's open bedroom door. 

Growing more anxious with every step she took, Hermione followed the candles until she reached the open door way. Inside, she found Draco standing by the bed in his green boxers, his knightly attire cast all over the floor. A few more candles floated around the bed.

Hermione felt rather awkward just standing there. Ignoring Draco's gaze, she quickly wandered over to his desk to study his book collection. Deciding that she had to take _something_ off, she removed her crown and set it down neatly on the desk. Feeling quite proud of herself for accomplishing such a feat, she scanned the row of books.

"I alphabetize my books, too," she commented, blushing at how silly she sounded.

"Relax," Draco said just by her ear, causing Hermione to jump.

"I'm sorry. I'm just nervous," she admitted, noticing that there were now only a few dim candles still lit.

"There's no need to be nervous," Draco murmured, pushing her hair aside and lowering his lips to the nape of her neck.

Hermione silently agreed with him as his lips moved and kissed the sensitive spot just below her ear, his fingers slowly undoing the row of buttons at the back of her dress.

"Shouldn't we talk first?" she suggested, her reason desperately fighting her current overwhelming desires.

Draco grinned.

"Talk away," he said lazily, slowly pulling her dress down and nipping at her shoulder.

Hermione's eyes fluttered close.

"The candles were lovely," she said weakly, leaning back against him.

"Hmm," he mumbled, undoing the last few buttons of her dress and letting it fall to the floor. Hermione vaguely noticed that all that remained were her knickers and white, silk slip.

"Do you think anyone will notice we're gone?" she asked. She gasped as Draco's hands slid to her breasts.

"The ball's over," he replied, his hands cupping the soft orbs through her gown and pressing them flat against her chest.

"Right," Hermione said hoarsely, her throat now dry. Draco slowly turned her around to face him.

"Hermione," he commanded softly.

She opened her eyes and found his silver gaze penetrating her. And then it happened. That reckless sensation came over her… and she completely surrendered to it. The mood suddenly changed. She was no longer timid or uncertain. Brushing her fingers back through his hair, she pulled his head down and kissed him with a wanton abandonment she didn't know she possessed.

Draco had been holding back as well, trying to pace himself, to go slow. But he could no longer restrain himself. He gathered her silk slip up to her chest and waited for her to lift her arms so he could take it off. Sliding it up over her, he tossed the garment aside and carried her to the bed. Seeing Hermione lying there with her breasts bare to his burning gaze, Draco knew he didn't have much longer. Removing his boxers, he lowered himself beside her and began lavishing her breasts with kisses as his hands slid her knickers off her hips and down her legs.

Hermione moaned as Draco's hand settled between her thighs. Memories of that day in Hogsmeade came rushing back to her. She spread her legs and bucked her hips, inviting him to explore more deeply. Draco swore under his breath, knowing he wasn't going to last. He kissed her hungrily as he repositioned himself on top of her.

"I can't wait," he panted against her lips. Hermione trembled when she felt him hard and warm against her. He paused as if waiting for permission, and with a swift, upward arc of her hips, Hermione granted it. With a sigh of blessed relief, Draco buried himself inside her and suspended the moment, not daring to move.

Hermione stared up at his flushed face and found his eyes. In the dim light, they were almost black as he gazed down at her. And then she felt him move inside her, and it was nothing like before. There was no pain, just a need to feel more, to be filled by him. She reached up to pull him closer and then groaned when she felt his thumb searching through the sensitive folds around her sex. The heat in the pit of her stomach spread like a wildfire as Draco's thumb finally found the sensitive bunch of nerves at her core.

"Is this what you want?" Draco asked hoarsely, his breathing ragged.

Hermione nodded her head emphatically and then cried out as the pressure of his thumb increased. The pace of his hips was unrelenting as he continued to plunge into her. She fiercely arced against him, clinging desperately to him as he brought her closer and closer to that final plateau.

Hermione was first to climax, and Draco soon joined her, thrusting his full length into her one last time as she unconsciously sobbed his name in her fit of passion. After a moment of sweet release, he let his head fall, his warm, still quickened breath mingling with hers. Exhausted, he moved and stretched out beside her, a satisfied grin plastered on his face.

They laid there quietly for a few moments before Hermione rolled over to face him, bringing the sheet up over her naked body. She saw the grin on his face and smiled.

"I can't believe we just… I mean…," she trailed off breathlessly, turning red.

"You're not regretting it, are you?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, staring dreamily back at him.

"No. Definitely not," she said happily. "It's just… well… we're here. Together. Naked, I might add. And yet, it seems like just yesterday I was calling you an arrogant bastard, and you were calling me a mudblood."

"It was 'heartless' bastard, and actually, I think that was yesterday," Draco joked.

He laughed at her pouting face.

"I'm sorry," he said, tracing her full lips. "It's not funny."

Like a kitten, she nipped at the finger tracing her lips and then grabbed his hand and began playing with it.

"So," she began shyly. "What happens now?"

"You're not tired?" he asked, surprised.

"No. Are you?" Hermione challenged.

"Trust me," Draco murmured with a devilish grin. "I'll wear you out, madam, long before you can exhaust me."

She smiled, opened her mouth to say something but then stopped herself.

"What?" Draco asked, amused by her girlish behavior.

Hermione blushed.

"I was just curious," she began tentatively, "But… does it always happen so fast? That quickly, I mean?"

Draco was no longer amused. He propped himself against the headboard.

"Not that it wasn't quite pleasurable," she amended, smiling prettily at his scowl.

"Quite pleasurable?" he repeated angrily. "Well, that makes me feel _loads_ better."

Hermione buried her face in her pillow, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"This isn't funny!" he scolded. "You are insulting my manhood. I demand an apology."

Hermione's laughing face reappeared.

"Draco," she said, still snickering, "I didn't take demands from you before. What makes you think you have more authority over me now?" she asked.

Hermione gave a small yelp as Draco playfully pinned her to the bed and kissed her.

"Your punishment, milady," he whispered.

"Yes?" she inquired, grinning.

She suddenly shivered. Barely touching her skin, Draco dragged his hand featherlike down her stomach.

"I'm going to make love to you… only this time, it's going to be slow. _Excruciating_," he growled, emphasizing his point by lightly sucking on her earlobe. A small whimper escaped Hermione as he continued his painfully slow assault.

"I'll have you begging," he promised, ghostly touching his lips to hers.

Draco held true to his promise and had Hermione pleading with him only after a few minutes. His gloating afterwards, however, earned him a cold shoulder. After apologizing for being such an ass, he made love to Hermione again until, at last satiated, she fell asleep in his arms. He watched her sleep a while before succumbing to the overwhelming exhaustion he felt. With a contented sigh, he pulled her closer and closed his eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note: **(lights cigarette) Oh, god. You think you've had it rough waiting 10 months for this chapter? Just think about all the stress I've gone through trying to write the damn thing. Yeesh. I'm just glad its finally done and that I got to update it on Halloween. That makes me happy. Of course, this chapter was originally scheduled to be posted Halloween 2005. But hey, what can ya do?

Not that any of you care, but it's been almost a year since I last updated because 1) I had a case of writer's block from Hell and 2) I did two film shoots, moved back across country to California, got a job, started school, and a whole bunch of other things. That, and I just simply suck as a human being. I take full responsibility this time. I. Suck.

And as always to my faithful readers… I know the majority of you are young teenagers procrastinating on your math homework, but I want to thank y'all for reading and reviewing. Oh, and just a little note to those bitter reviewers who still find it necessary to point out the obvious: Yes. I know my story is full of cliches. I understand. No, really, I got it after the first twenty cliche reviews. Your work is done, my friends. Move along.

**Trivial Items:** Has anyone seen pictures of Dan Radcliffe in _Order of the Phoenix_? I mean, what the hell are they doing with his hair? That's not Harry hair. That's Dan Radcliffe in _December Boys _hair. Does anyone else know what I'm talking about?

_House_ starring Hugh Laurie returns on Halloween with all new episodes! AAAHHHH!!! I'm so excited! It's my favorite show!!!

(twiddles thumbs) I'm just rambling on now. You can go. I'm not going to suddenly whip out Chapter 18 or anything. Buh bye, now. Tootles.


	18. Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:** It's been… (counts fingers) Six months! Hey, that's better than ten, right? This is going to be another two part sort of chapter. I felt this had a natural ending point. Thought I'd post it to tide y'all over until the next chapter. So enjoy!

**Recap:** In case you missed it…HERMIONE AND DRACO FINALLY HAD SEX! On to the morning after…

**Chapter 18: Sunday Morning**

It was a lazy Sunday morning. Draco and Hermione had not budged from the massive four poster bed or the warm silk sheets engulfing them. Even the rain falling outside the castle had its own heavy, lethargic rhythm. All the candles had burned down to within an inch of life, shrouding the naked couple in golden light. Hermione laid there sleepily in Draco's arms, idly tracing patterns on his chest with her finger.

She breathed contentedly.

"You snore in your sleep," she noted casually.

Draco regarded her through half lidded eyes.

"So do you," he said.

She pouted.

"I do not," she simpered.

"Oh, really?" he scoffed with a loud yawn. "Well, it was either you snoring, or that giant oaf, Hagrid, was sleeping next to me last night."

Hermione punched his chest.

"First of all, Hagrid is a friend of mine," she ranted. "And secondly-"

"Not the listing," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Please, not the listing."

She punched his chest again.

"_First of all_," she enunciated, although the laughter in her eyes betrayed her lack of anger, "I will list as I please. And secondly, _you're_ the giant oaf."

Draco arched a cocky brow.

"Giant, eh?" he asked with a grin.

Hermione eyed him with amazement.

"Only you would find some sort of compliment in that insult," she observed with a chuckle. Sighing, she returned to plotting shapes on his chest.

"What are you doing?" he asked, watching her hand curiously.

Hermione snickered.

"Drawing little hearts with our initials in them," she joked, bubbling with laughter.

He stilled her hand, holding it flat to his chest. Hermione looked at his hand over hers, feeling his heart beating. She thought of their first kiss. Looking into his eyes, she knew he was recalling the same memory.

"I'm feeling quite rested," she hinted, her hand making its way down his abdomen.

"Good," Draco rasped, pressing his hips to hers. "You'll need your strength this morning."

"What about breakfast?" she asked, not particularly caring for an answer as Draco shifted his warm weight on top of her.

He grinned.

"Food can wait," he insisted.

* * *

Some time later…

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked as she picked a vine of grapes.

Draco held open his mouth in a silent request. Giggling, Hermione tossed a grape at him. It hit his eye.

"Perfect aim, as usual," he joked, retrieving the grape from the covers and eating it. "You could have fed it to me instead of mauling me with it."

Hermione laughed.

"Me? Hand feeding you grapes in bed? You must be daft," she said.

"Perhaps if I demonstrated," he offered, plucking a raspberry from the silver platter of fruit he had conjured. He held it up to her mouth. Hermione clenched her teeth shut.

"Must everything be a struggle between us?" he asked teasingly. When Hermione merely smiled challengingly back at him, Draco ate the raspberry and reached for another one. "Do you really want to know what I was thinking about?" he said.

Hermione nodded, her eyes sparkling deviously.

"For two whole months," he began, bringing the raspberry to her lips, "I wanted you. But I had only fantasies to torment myself with." He crushed the raspberry and let the juice drip over her closed lips. "And now that I have you… I plan on realizing every one of those fantasies." He slowly, sensuously rubbed the crushed fruit over her mouth and watched her eyes grow molten with need. Reluctantly, Hermione parted her lips and allowed Draco to push the ravaged berry into her mouth. He then kissed her stained lips, languorously tasting them with his tongue.

Hermione kissed back hungrily.

"How can I still want you this much when we… all morning," she finished breathlessly, biting her lip as he nipped at her throat.

"I seem to have that effect on women," he huskily observed.

Hermione stiffened, his words reverberating in her mind.

"Oh, god," she muttered in a panic. She snatched at the sheet and wrapped it around her as she scooted off the bed.

Draco laughed in confusion.

"Where're you going?" he asked playfully, grabbing the end of the sheet and pulling her back down to the mattress. Hermione tugged at the sheet, trying to keep herself covered and escape from Draco's grasp at the same time.

"Oh, for goodness sake!" she finally exclaimed. She unwrapped herself and tore across the room in a naked flash.

"Hermione!" Draco called, totally perplexed as she disappeared into the bathroom. He relaxed however when she returned donning a towel.

"What's wrong?" he asked with actual concern. When she continued to avoid his gaze and fidget with her towel, he became impatient.

"Answer me, damn it," he commanded.

"Don't order me around," she said testily, finally locking eyes with him. "I'm trying to put my thoughts together, and I can't possibly do that if I'm in bed with you," she explained.

Draco stared at her.

"You think too much," he concluded. "We were just getting started. Come back to bed," he beckoned, gesturing with his arm.

Hermione stamped her foot.

"Sex!" she snapped. "Always about sex! Do you think of nothing else?"

Draco was truly bewildered.

"It has been noted on a number of occasions that the blood flow has returned to my brain," he retorted sarcastically. "But under present circumstances with you standing in my bedroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around your luscious body, all I can think about is-"

"My body?" she supplied heatedly. "Is that all you care about? I'm beginning to doubt whether you could carry on a conversation that didn't involve your insatiable sexual appetite."

Draco sat up, his brows snapping together.

"Is that what you're on about? Fine," he clipped. "What a dreary morning we're having. I heard it would be raining all week. Chillier winds have definitely started to blow-"

"You're mocking me," she accused.

"No, I'm not," he said with feigned innocence. "I take the weather very seriously."

In a huff, Hermione hastily began gathering her discarded ball garments that were strewn around the room.

"I can't do this," she declared.

"You can't talk about the weather?" Draco asked derisively. "I suppose we could choose another topic. Shall we discuss our hopes and dreams?" he sneered.

"Stop it!" Hermione cried. "Why are you being so mean?"

"Why?" he jeered. "Because I was enjoying myself before you went into one of your moods."

Hermione threw down her garments.

"Is that all I am to you?" she spat. "A tool for your sexual perversions? I refuse to be another notch on your bedpost!"

"Forgive me for my abundant experience," he drawled, "Which you knew very well of last night when you chose to come to me. I find it extremely inconvenient you decided to become jealous now."

"Jealous?" she hissed. "You're bloody right I'm jealous! I-" She cut herself off there, knowing exactly what she had been about to say. She loved him. She was in love with Draco Malfoy. And that realization terrified her. She sucked in a deep breath, reeling in her sudden onslaught of emotions. "I don't expect flowery words of love," she continued evenly. "I know better. I do, however, expect you to hold me in a much higher regard than all of your other women. And that means- _no more other women_," she enunciated. "I demand exclusivity in this relationship. And no more sneaky seduction tricks. If you want me, you will ask nicely… and I may or may not consent."

Draco glared at her.

"And if I don't comply with your wishes?" he snarled.

Hermione eyed him regally.

"Then you will not have me at all," she stated with such finality and authority, Draco felt a small amount of pride through his anger.

"I see," he replied coolly, rising from the bed, completely unabashed in his nudity. He advanced towards her. "That was an adorable little speech. But here are my wishes, and you _will_ follow them," he declared silkily. "You will stop with this nonsense and come back to bed. I'm finding your sudden streak of dominance to be quite a turn on."

She stood her ground, eyeing him menacingly.

"And if I don't comply with _your_ wishes?" she said, echoing his words.

Draco smirked.

"I'll find someone else to satisfy me, someone with actual skills and knowledge- not some naïve, inexperienced bookworm."

Hermione slapped him so hard it brought tears to her eyes. Draco merely flinched from the blow. For a moment, she thought he was furious enough to strike back. Instead, he walked stiffly past her into the bathroom and slammed the door.

* * *

Blaise threw back his head and laughed, nearly upsetting him from his broomstick as he and Draco sat suspended above the pitch. Below them, the rest of the Slytherin house team was in the midst of quidditch practice.

"I'm glad you find my predicament hilarious… as always," Draco said sourly.

"Honestly, my sympathies lie with the bookworm, mate," Blaise admitted, still chuckling as he wiped the mist of rain from his eyes. "The poor girl is in love with you. She's doomed like the many that came before her. Unless, of course, you return her affections."

"I've already accepted that I care for her," Draco said solemnly.

"Yes, but do you love her?" Blaise prodded.

Draco shrugged.

"I succeeded in seducing her," he stated listlessly. "Love was never my intention-"

"But it is a consequence," Blaise cut in, "A consequence that you choose not to face even now… though I know for a fact that you're in love with her."

"That's beside the point," Draco argued. "She has no right to demand ultimatums."

"Of course she does," Blaise insisted. "I'm sure the metaphorical spell you cast upon her last night at the ball faded this morning around the time her lust was fully satiated and her senses came back to her. Just like you, she knows what she wants. And she wants you. You don't give a damn about ultimatums because you don't want anyone else. You know who you're really angry at?"

"Myself, I'm sure," Draco answered dully.

"Correct. And do you know why?" Blaise asked patronizingly.

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

"You aren't worthy enough to give the bookworm everything she wants and deserves. Nor are you capable. And you know it. And you hate yourself for it."

Blaise's words were more jolting than the sudden icy blast of wind stinging at Draco's wet face. He stared into the grey clouds surrounding him, not knowing what his next move should be. The seduction was over. He was in uncharted territory.

Blaise seemed to read his thoughts.

"You have two options, mate," he said somberly, watching his friend. "You've had your fun. Move on. Let her go."

Draco hesitated.

"And my second option?" he asked gruffly.

Blaise whirled around on his broom.

"Grow up," he said simply. And with that final piece of advice, Blaise left Draco to stare at the grey vastness of clouds and joined the rest of the players below in their scrimmage.

* * *

"I sensed I was needed," Lavender announced after she barged into the Room of Requirement that Hermione had transformed into a small reading room. Hermione watched warily as Lavender delicately perched herself on the lounge chair across from her.

"Did you see _everything_?" Hermione asked miserably, annoyed by the intrusion.

Lavender gave her a pointed stare.

"_Someone_ woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," she needled. "Or perhaps the wrong bed. I surmise from your little quarrel with Draco that you're having regrets."

Hermione set aside the book she'd been reading.

"It's not that I'm having regrets," she explained carefully. "It's…" She grew frustrated. "Damn him!" she cried. "He has this effect over me. I become reckless! I acted on impulse last night! I forgot logic or reason or that Draco is a selfish, arrogant human being! And I knew!" She shook her head, still trying to understand herself. "I knew I would fall in love with him if I went to him… but he was so different last night at the ball… There were moments when he was charming, polite… poetic even… "

"I don't understand," Lavender said, now in a full lounging position. "In my vision, the two of you were quite cozy… and then you were attacking him-"

"I didn't attack him," Hermione responded defensively. "I was expressing my concerns over certain issues-"

"My question is," Lavender cut in, "What set off the temper tantrum?"

Hermione fell back against her chair and closed her eyes.

"He made an offhanded comment about all the other women he's been with," she confessed helplessly. "And then it occurred to me that I was naked in Draco Malfoy's bed. I snapped. All I could think about were the many women that he's been with… and…I..." She covered her face with her hands. "Oh, god," she moaned. "I _can't_ be in love with him."

"Why not?" Lavender asked, flipping through Hermione's discarded book.

"_Why not?"_ Hermione repeated incredulously. "You saw his behavior this morning. He's a cruel, possessive chauvinist. He could never love me."

"So he has some less than amiable qualities," Lavender understated. "I hate to play devil's advocate, but might I suggest another possibility?"

With her face covered with a cushion, Hermione waved her arm in consent, silently weeping.

Lavender sighed impatiently at Hermione's pathetic display.

"It may be that Draco _could_ love you," she offered, "But he simply doesn't know how to express himself. Not a totally unfounded idea considering what I'm sure wasn't the most nurturing upbringing and years of Dark Lord brainwashing. I think Draco could learn to love you…."

Hermione's puffy face peered out hopefully from behind the cushion.

"Really?" she asked sniffily.

Lavender tilted her head to the side.

"Possibly," she said none too convincingly. "Now, would you please tell me why you're reading-" She flipped over the book in her hands and read the title. "_The Magic of Sex_?" she asked, raising a comical brow.

Blushing furiously, Hermione made a quick grab for the book, but Lavender held it out of reach.

"I was just doing some research," Hermione awkwardly explained.

"With _this_ book?" Lavender asked doubtfully. "I suppose it's good for basics. However…" She tossed the book over her shoulder and went to the bookshelf. "If you really want a page turner, I'd recommend… ah! Here it is!" she said perkily, handing Hermione a thin black volume.

Hermione stared blankly at the cover.

"_The Witch's Guide to Wizardly Pleasures_," she read aloud.

Lavender sighed.

"I've read it five times," she proudly proclaimed. "Very informative. Well, you must be absolutely exhausted after a tumultuous night of lovemaking. I'm sure you didn't get a wink of sleep-"

Hermione's eyes welled up with another round of tears.

"He called me an inexperienced bookworm!" she sobbed, burying her face in the cushion once again.

Lavender groaned.

"So_ that's_ what's bothering you. I should have_ seen_ this emotional outburst coming," she said irritably. She looked down at Hermione's shaking shoulders and suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of pity. "I suppose you can't help it if all of your friends have betrayed you," she relented, conjuring a handkerchief and offering it to Hermione.

"I don't understand!" Hermione choked as Lavender sat down beside her. "How could he say something so awful after we- we- you know… repeatedly!" she choked out.

"Darling, please," Lavender cajoled. "Draco Malfoy, above all else, knows how to be cruel. You attacked him with a string of insults, summing him up to be a witless sex fiend… and yet you wonder why he would deliver the worst possible insult to you."

Hermione wiped her face sluggishly.

"Well… I…"

"My advice," Lavender said, rising, "Is to take a nap. I promise you'll feel much better when you wake up."

Hermione yawned.

"I am quite tired," she admitted, stretching out on the lounge.

"Quite understandable," Lavender drawled, rolling her eyes. She turned to leave.

"Lavender," Hermione called softly.

"Yes?"

Hermione smiled weakly and closed her eyes.

"Thank you," she said before falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

"One more minute of that pathetic display, and I would have throttled the girl," Lavender ranted from behind a screen, struggling to maneuver her curvaceous body into a tight leather corset. "Luckily, she was too weepy-eyed to notice the sleeping charm I slipped her."

"I think you like her," Blaise commented from his position on the bed as he waited eagerly.

Lavender zipped up her leather costume.

"I suppose I've grown a sort of motherly affection towards her," she replied, making a few adjustments. "Hopefully, you steered Draco in the right direction and this will all be over by tonight. Parvati will have Ron… and Draco and Hermione will live happily ever after. All thanks to me," she finished, grinning with satisfaction at her reflection in the full length mirror.

"What! No credit to me?" Blaise called in minor outrage. "I believe I assisted you in your matchmaking schemes."

"True. You did help," Lavender conceded, stepping out from behind the screen and striking a pose. "But_ I_ had the vision," she concluded victoriously, brandishing her whip.

* * *

**End of Chapter Note: **I have no idea if this chapter is any good. So if it sucks, let me know. I am completely at your mercy. I should be posting the next chapter soon. There will probably be about 21 in all, I think- HOLD UP! I just remembered something!

**TO THE READERS WHO ACTUALLY THOUGHT THAT CHAPTER 17 WAS THE END OF THE STORY**: Peoples! Come on! They don't just have sex and live happily ever after! Are you kidding me?! What about, oh I dunno, declarations of love?! What about the future of the Golden Trio?! Will they ever accept Draco?! I'm very upset with some of you! It's mind boggling! To think I'd end the story like that… (walks away muttering incoherently).

Anyhoo, I hope everyone is having a pleasant 2007 thus far. Did anyone see the international OotP trailer?! AAAHHHH!!!! And a week after the 5th movie comes out… the last book comes out! I can't take it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay. I'm gonna go now. Hope you liked the chapter!


	19. The Reason

**Recap: **Years later ... Joking! Okay, so hate turned to love and then hate again as Hermione and Draco try to figure out what the heck they're doing. They finally make love and then fight the morning after. Lavender keeps seeing stuff. Blaise is whipped. Hermione is mad at Ron for sneaking around with Parvati and also mad at Harry for keeping Ron's secret. And, uh ... yeah.

Only a Seer would risk sneaking out after curfew on a Sunday… and dressed so provocatively. Lavender hurried up the staircase towards the Astronomy Tower, her pink slippers softly scuffing the marble floors. She paid no heed to the storm raging outside or to the darkness that lay ahead.

At the bottom of the spiral staircase that led up to the Astronomy Tower, Blaise was waiting for her.

"Lavender," he greeted, his eyes wandering appreciatively over her scantily clad body.

"I thought I had fully satiated your appetite this afternoon," Lavender purred, her lips curving into a wicked smile. Walking into his open arms, she kissed him sensually, her hand eagerly reaching for his nether regions.

"Actually," Blaise mumbled against her lips, wincing as he stopped her hand from further exploration, "That wasn't why I owled you."

Lavender leaned back in his arms. "Oh? Something wrong?" she asked with deceptive sweetness.

"Er," he began. "Well... it's Malfoy."

With a single name, Lavender's charm and patience evaporated. "_Malfoy_?" she hissed.

"Darling, please - he's very distraught," Blaise explained in a rush.

"_Distraught?_" she said, shoving out of his arms. "I snuck out of my dormitories in my _lingerie_ to be with _you_. I thought you had settled all this at quidditch practice-"

Lavender was hit with a vision of earlier that afternoon when two Slytherins had been engrossed in a midair conversation. She swore aloud when she heard Blaise's inspired speech instead of the one they had rehearsed.

"Perfect, Blaise," she said, coming out of her fit. "Just perfect. I ask you to do one thing, one simple task-

"He's in a horrible state," he fumbled. "I dunno what to do with him!"

Lavender retied her robe. "Where is he?" she snarled.

Blaise's gaze drifted up the winding stairs. It was too dark to see the top, but Lavender could hear a low voice... _singing_?

"What's he doing?" she asked.

"He's gone mad," Blaise explained as he led her up the stairs. "When he disappeared after practice, I didn't think anything of it. Figured he'd come here to sulk. By the time I arrived, the bloody idiot had taken a draught of Goblin's Breath."

Lavender gasped. "But it's been banned for nearly a century!"

"And for good reason," Blaise said. "Lucius had some hidden at the manor. We tried it once. Foul stuff." Blaise shuddered for emphasis. "_Absolutely_ foul."

As they drew closer, Blaise flourished his wand. The landing was illuminated, revealing a disheveled Draco slumped over the top few steps shivering in his soaked quidditch robes.

"He looks drunk," Lavender observed.

Blaise grunted. "He's delusional. Just keeps singing that same bloody song over and over. Almost certain it's the one from the ball Warbeck opened with."

"Did you try a sobering charm?" Lavender asked, waving her hand in front of Draco's face as he continued to mumble out of tune.

"Yes," Blaise said. "As you can see, he'll need something a bit stronger than that."

"Blah?" Draco said, struggling to lift his head. "Tha' you?"

"It's me, mate," Blaise grimaced, hovering over him.

"I'm 'eartless bastard," Draco muttered, his eyes bloodshot and not focusing.

"Interesting," Blaise noted. "It's the most lucid he's been in the past hour."

Draco turned a pitiful face towards his friend. "You were righ', Blah," he said.

Blaise shook his head sadly. "I take it back. He's worse than I thought."

"'I can' have her," Draco continued hoarsely.

"Can't have who?"

"Herminny," Draco slurred.

Blaise snorted. "Technically, you've already had her, mate…"

Blaise's voice faltered. He and Lavender gaped at Draco, completely stunned by what they were witnessing.

Draco Malfoy was crying.

"I LUB HERMY!" Draco sobbed, his bottom lip quivering.

"He's deranged," Blaise croaked.

"Grup… leggo," Draco whimpered. And with those final eloquent words, he passed out.

Lavender sniffed in distaste. "This is so... sad." Pulling out her wand, she transfigured her naughty lingerie into school attire. "Come on," she said, flourishing her robes as she descended the stairs. "We need a remedy. I remember something about the severe effects of Goblin's Breath being irreversible if not treated immediately. We'll need to break into Snape's private store, but-"

"Very impressive, Miss Brown," Blaise said, grinning. "So you're a Seer _and_ a Healer."

Lavender rolled her eyes.

"Hermione isn't the _only_ girl at this school who reads," she replied.

"You can read as well?" he asked with sham astonishment.

"Amazing, isn't it?" she said, giving his head a quick _thwack_ with her wand.

* * *

Hermione had never felt so well rested when she opened her eyes and found herself still in the Room of Requirement. Stretching out across the chaise lounge, her hand brushed against parchment. She retrieved the small scroll and read Lavender's brushed script.

_I conjured an appropriate ensemble and marked a few pages in _The Witch's Guide to Wizardly Pleasures_. It's a bit of a crash course, but I'm sure you'll be able to teach that gorgeous Slytherin a thing or two in the art of lovemaking. Make him weep._

_-Lavender_

Hermione actually laughed aloud at Lavender's final order. Her laughter was cut short, though, when she picked up the appropriate ensemble Lavender had mentioned. It was a slip the color of deepest emerald green… and it was completely sheer. Hermione gulped, contemplating in utter confusion the purpose of wearing a gown that concealed absolutely nothing- although she did note with some amusement that the color choice was very Slytherin. She relaxed a bit when she found a silver robe to accompany the indecent piece of lingerie.

Equipped with her newfound sex attire, Hermione set to work studying the passages Lavender had marked in _The Witch's Guide to Wizardly Pleasures_. She would not only prove to Draco that she was a knowledgeable lover, but she would also drive any thoughts of other women from his mind. She smiled deliciously to herself and recalled Lavender's written words.

_Make him weep…_

* * *

There was only one cure for Goblin's Breath: Hair of the Werewolf. After performing a drying spell on his robes, Lavender and Blaise had managed to transport Draco back to the Slytherin common room. They sat him up on a sofa and poured a dram of potion into his mouth. Then … they waited. A few moments of gurgling and random spasms later, Draco opened his eyes and focused on the two people sitting with him.

"Blaise," he croaked. "What is your Gryffindorgirlfriend doing in _our_ common room?"

"Seems to have done the trick," Lavender said lightly, rising to her feet.

Blaise retrieved an empty green bottle and handed it to Draco. "Goblin's Breath, mate? What possessed you?" he scolded.

"Perhaps it was your encouraging words to him earlier, darling," Lavender suggested. With an airy chuckle at Draco's venomous glare, she settled herself into an armchair and gave the dark and dreary room a glance over. "Well, this is cozy," she drawled. "Shall I call for tea and crumpets?"

"_Blaise_," Draco practically growled. "Get her out of here."

Blaise coughed awkwardly. "Er, Lavender- _Love_," he added gently, "Thanks for your help, but it might be best for you to return to Gryffindor Tower-"

"And leave you to muddle things up?" she said. "Absolutely not."

"Muddle what up? What is she on about?" Draco said.

"Hermione was right. You _are_ a _witless_ sex fiend," Lavender muttered. At Draco's speechless rage, she rolled her eyes. "Yes, I _saw_ your altercation this morning."

Draco fumed at Blaise. "Is there any way of ripping out your girlfriend's inner eye?"

"She can't help it, mate," Blaise pleaded. "The damn thing has a mind of its own-"

"Shush!" Lavender snapped, holding Draco with her leveling glare. "Do you think I _enjoy_ seeing you and Hermione? All your interludes? Your private thoughts? Your secret daydreams? Dragons and butterflies and _pig-man creatures_? Well, I don't! And to be quite frank, I'm sick of it! There I was this afternoon trying to whip Blaise into submission when visions of a lovesick _idiot_"-she waved her wand for dramatic flair- "_moping_ in the rain popped into my head!"

"Enough!" Draco said, rising. "This is ridiculous. I'm leaving."

"No, you're not," Lavender said in dangerously quiet voice, her wand now fixed on him. "If you want my inner eye out of your business, then you'll stay exactly where you are. Whether willingly or by force, it makes no difference to me."

"Are you seriously going to allow this?" Draco blasted at Blaise.

"Just listen to her," Blaise mumbled. "She'll get her way eventually. Always does. Best to get it over with."

With a dramatic breath, Lavender relaxed back into her chair. "Very good, darling," she praised. "I've trained you well. Now, fetch us some whiskey."

Blaise dragged his feet as he set to work summoning the drinks, ignoring Draco's wrathful sneers.

"Sit down, Draco," Lavender commanded. She watched him as he crankily took his seat. "Now, listen carefully. I shouldn't be telling you any of this. But between Hermione's nagging and your sulking, I'm at my wit's end. So I've decided to break all the rules of Divination to prevent you from making this next error. For _my_ sake. Not yours."

Blaise handed drinks to them and took a chair.

"Down to business," Lavender said, setting aside her drink. "I don't know why, but some sort of window was opened in my mind. This window allows visions of you and Hermione in. According to Trelawny, Seers may sometimes become concentrated on a person or persons of familiarity where there may exist… unresolved conflict."

"And how does one go about closing the bloody window?" Draco bit out.

Lavender pursed her lips. "You and Hermione need a happily ever after… so to speak," she explained. "You need to kiss and makeup. Yes, I know everything would be easier if the two of you weren't together. But that would leave the situation unresolved. I can't have that. The ingenious plan of trashing yourself into oblivion is not an option."

For once in his life, Draco looked helpless.

"You're mental" he said, kicking the sofa with his heel. "I _can't_ make Hermione happy. I'm not the one-"

"Yes, you _are_," Lavender insisted, leaning forward. "She loves you. You love her. Perfect. Tell her. _End this_," she urged.

"How do you know she loves me?" he demanded, standing and towering over her. "It's impossible! For her to fall for me is just- you don't know what you're saying! You make it all sound so fucking easy, and it's not!"

"I never said this would be _easy_!" Lavender exclaimed. "Hence the 'growing up' portion of this lesson, which is the only _correct_ point Blaise managed to explain-"

"Oh, just SHUT UP, WOMAN!" Blaise bellowed.

As Draco and Lavender stared with slacked jaws, Blaise downed his fire whiskey and wiped his mouth.

Draco was the first to recover. "_Thank you_," he said as if Blaise's outburst had been long overdue. "'Bout time you grew a pair with this little chit-"

"Both of you can shut up," Blaise amended, waving a hand at Draco like a maestro silencing the orchestra. "Lavender, stop trying to play God. Malfoy, stop being such a coward and man up."

"_Sorry?_" Lavender and Malfoy cried simultaneously.

"You heard me!" Blaise said, advancing on them. "Draco, you are my closest mate. Like a brother, really, so I cannot- _will_ not let you destroy what may be your only chance at a _real life_."

"You said it yourself!" Draco pleaded. "I'm the heartless bastard, incapable of giving Hermione what she deserves, remember? I'm Draco Malfoy, for fuck's sake!"

"Mate, listen," Blaise said a bit more calmly. "You're seeing the glass as half empty again-"

"Fuck your stupid metaphors!" Draco snapped, shoving Blaise back a step.

Blaise shoved him back harder, causing Draco to stumble. "No, fuck your stupidity!" he retorted. "I said those things to you today because I thought you would choose the right path- _not_ because I thought you would run away and obliterate yourself like the coward you are-"

"I'm not a coward!" Draco insisted.

"Prove it," Blaise challenged. "Recognize this as an opportunity to 'grow up' and be the man your father couldn't be."

Draco's eyes went wide as he looked at his friend as if seeing him for the first time. With an inward cringe, Blaise's words hit home. Running away, drowning himself in self pity … just like his father … a coward. Draco's desperate actions from the afternoon seemed so foolish now … and cowardly. In his attempt to be nothing like Lucius, Draco had created what he feared most. He was the spitting image of him.

But Blaise was right. Draco had a choice – a chance to lead a different life. Foreign emotions crept over Draco, emotions he had learned to suppress and avoid his entire life … doubt … fear … hope …

"How do I do this?" he said, posing the question more to himself than to his friend.

Blaise shrugged. "That's a question every man must answer for himself."

Draco looked at Lavender. "She really loves me?" he asked skeptically.

Lavender clenched her teeth. "Yes," she said. "Now, off you go. Hermione practically has her legs spread for you."

With a heavy countenance and insecurity weighing him down, Draco left the common room.

"Unbelievable!" Lavender vented while Blaise pulled her to him. "They always doubt me! I could predict the sun will rise tomorrow, and they would still doubt me!" Exhaling her frustration, she looked at Blaise approvingly. "Apart from yelling at me, I thought you were brilliant."

"Oh, _now_ I'm brilliant?" he said. "I certainly don't feel brilliant, being thick enough to love a witch like you and all-"

"Blaise," Lavender cooed, patting his chest. "You've had your podium moment. Now, carry me off to bed. I'm exhausted from playing God."

* * *

Hermione had never felt so foolish.

Hours had passed since she had left the Room of Requirement, intent on seducing Draco. And with so much time on her hands, her body had cooled and her brain had taken over. She had been pacing the common room in the most indecent scrap of clothing, wondering why she wore the damn thing at all. _I might as well be naked_, she thought sourly to herself. _Where is he?_

She glared at the infamous sofa in their common room as she jabbed an iron stoker into the fire. Something had to be done.

"_Confringo!_" she hissed.

The sofa burst into flames. Hermione watched it burn, but the relief she sought remained elusive. With a wave of her wand, the sofa vaporized into nothing, leaving only a few puffs of smoke.

It was an impossible situation. _He can't love me_, Hermione reasoned. She couldn't even imagine him saying the words let alone actually feeling the emotion. And for her. Of all people. A mudblood. She didn't doubt that Draco cared for her. That much she could believe. But it wasn't enough. The idea of her and Draco… as a couple … logic was firmly set against that notion.

Hermione started at the sound of the door closing.

Draco came forward in a determined fashion, tossing his quidditch robes over an arm chair. He faced her with a sulking glare.

"I'm not going to apologize for calling you an inexperienced bookworm," he declared as if they were in the middle of a heated exchange. "I know I should, but I won't. Because I'm an ass."

Hermione stared. "Fine," she said with a shrug. "I'm not going to apologize for implying that you're a witless sex fiend."

"You shouldn't," Draco snapped. "Because when it comes to you, I am."

What he was saying and how he was saying it were in such disaccord, Hermione had no idea how to interpret Draco's seemingly foul mood. "Excellent," she said. "That's settled. Why're you angry?"

"I'm not angry!" he bellowed. He closed his eyes, raked his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. "I'm ... I'm terrified," he said in a much quieter voice.

Hermione attempted to remain calm ... though her heart was doing somersaults. "Terrified of what?" she said.

Draco seemed to struggle to find the words. "You're ... smart," he said lamely.

Hermione blinked. "Have you been drinking?" she asked.

"No ... yes- fuck- wait!" he said, holding up his hands as if to ward off potential questions. "Give me a moment. I'm trying to explain."

Hermione nodded and visibly relaxed. It was amazing how caught up in doubt she had been only moments before. Just seeing him again was enough to erase all the cons. The hours of pacing and fretting were gone. He was here with her now, and that was all that mattered. She was impatient to hear his explanation. The fact that he had requested a moment to collect his thoughts was testament to how important his next words would be.

With a steadying breath, Draco finally spoke. "I wish you were stupid," he said. "That is - You're the smartest witch I know."

There seemed to be a ringing in Hermione's ears. "Is that _really _what you're trying to tell me? _Really?_" she blasted. _I hate Draco Malfoy, _her mind seethed. "You wish I were stupid? More like _Pansy_, perhaps-"

"No!" Draco cut in. "Damn it. Just- I'm the worst possible choice for you!" he said.

Hermione's shoulders deflated, her spirits sinking from disgusted rage to heartbreaking disappointment. _Oh_. He was ending it. _That's what he's trying to tell me_. And she should let him end it. Because that was the _smart_ thing to do. There was no other rational option.

"That's why I wish you weren't so bloody smart," Draco explained. "You know better than to give it a go with me. And if you weren't so bloody smart ... I would never have fallen for you. I'm the last person in the world you should be with."

Hermione numbly nodded. "Yes ... Logically, I agree."

Draco nodded his own head in defeat.

"But," she said, "I _feel_ otherwise."

Draco looked up, a cocktail of emotions brewing in his eyes. "And ... how do you _feel_ ... about ... all this?" he said, his hands gesturing between them.

"You mean, how do I feel about _you_?" she asked, feeling strangely calm. "Is that what you're really asking me?"

"Yes," he breathed as if her answer would determine the course of his life ... because it would.

Hermione felt like a prisoner who had for so long dreaded her execution. But now that the axe was about to fall, she felt suddenly at peace. "I've fallen for you, too," she said clearly, honestly, confidently. "I'm _in_ love with you. I realized it this morning, hence my tantrum."

Draco closed his eyes and exhaled. "In that case ... " He came forward, in his hand a small black box with silver stitching. "You demanded exclusivity ... " He opened the box. Inside were two rings, one masculine, one feminine. The bands were intertwined silver and gold with a mix of rubies and emeralds.

"I thought these could be symbolic," he explained. "Not only of our fidelity to each other but, also, the union of our houses." He took the female ring from its velvet bed. "Will you wear it?"

The rings, the gesture, his sincerity ... once again, Draco had turned Hermione's world upside down in a matter of seconds. And she loved that. She loved him. And for the first time, she had no wish to change him. As she felt the solid weight of the ring slide onto her finger, she grinned with elation.

"Do you feel exclusive now?" Draco drawled, bringing her finger to his lips to kiss the ring.

"Not yet," she whispered, caressing the blond stubble at his jaw. She removed the masculine ring from the box and placed it on his finger. "There," she said. "I assume a proper consummation is in order now?"

Draco ran his hands down her body to the ties of her silver robe. "That feels about right." He looked down between them. "What is this you're wearing?" He parted the robe, revealing the sheer green confection beneath. He inhaled sharply.

Hermione blushed. "I may have had a seduction plan in mind. I even read a few passages from _The Witch's Guide to Wizardly Pleasure_s to educate myself."

Draco's face lit up with pure adoration. "To clarify," he stated slowly. "I called you an inexperienced bookworm… so you did a little homework?"

"Naturally," she admitted sheepishly. "Partly to educate myself. But, I also want to make you happy. Because ... well, that's what you do when you love someone ..."

It struck Hermione as the words left her mouth why Draco had wanted to keep her in bed. The only thing that came naturally to him was being cruel ... because it was all he had ever known. Giving her physical pleasure was the only way he knew to make her happy, to show his love.

"_I think Draco could learn to love you," Lavender had told her in the Room of Requirement ..._

Pondering that thought, Hermione played with Draco's sweater. "What if you teach me the art of lovemaking _in_ bed ... and I teach you the art of lovemaking out of bed?" she proposed.

Draco stilled her hands against his chest. "Can we start with the lovemaking in bed?"

"Yes," she laughed ... and then something swelled within her, a giddy tenderness that caused her to throw her arms around him and tuck her head into his neck. Draco stood still, his arms down awkwardly at his sides. Hermione felt his hesitation and knew instantly what was wrong.

"You've never been hugged before," she said into his neck.

His choked up silence was confirmation.

"Not even by your mother?" she asked quietly.

"I don't remember," he said gruffly, sounding very far away. And then as if coming to life, he embraced Hermione in return, letting his head fall on her shoulder.

They stood there ... just hugging. The moment was sweet and simple and yet more meaningful than anything either one of them had ever experienced. Draco and Hermione were incased in some sort of golden bubble of warmth and love ... true magic in its basic form.

Still embracing one another, they touched foreheads.

"So ..." Hermione said, "Come tomorrow ... are we an official couple for the whole school to see?"

Draco sighed. "Can we draw up contracts later? We have some consummating to do."

"Yes, yes, lovemaking first, I know, but we really should think this through-"

"Lesson one in the art of lovemaking," Draco instructed. "No thinking allowed."

Hermione yelped and laughed as Draco threw her over his shoulder and marched to his bedroom.

* * *

Later, though, as Hermione slept, Draco couldn't stop thinking, stressing. If anyone had told him two months ago - especially Lavender - that his new mission in life would be to make Hermione Granger happy, he would have told Lavender that she was one lost marble short of being a complete nutter. Then again, everything in his life was topsy turvy now, so what did it matter?

It had been the longest day, but he couldn't rest. Not until he had a plan of action. The happy reunion was over. But Hermione was right. At breakfast, they would face everyone as a couple. The upset between their houses would be one issue. That would simply take time to smooth over. Potter and Weasley, on the other hand ... Draco wasn't sure there was any way to bridge that gap with so much history and hatred on both sides. Unless ...

* * *

The Fat Lady snored loudly as her portrait flung open. A very grumpy Ginny stepped out of the portrait hole. Tightening her robes against the chill of the corridor, she eyed Draco with blatant irritation.

"I'm here. What do you want?" she said, keeping her voice low.

"I need your help," Draco blurted out.

She crossed her arms and lifted her chin as if claiming her higher status. "Continue."

"I need an ally," Draco insisted.

Ginny's superiority crumbled as the full weight of that request settled on her. "And you're willing to do your part? You must really be in love if you think you are."

Draco shrugged. "For Hermione's sake, I can set aside my hatred for your entire family and Pothead, yes. I can be ... civil. I need to at least try. For her."

Ginny half smiled at that and extended her hand. "I'm in," she said. They shook on it. "Mind you," she warned. "Just because we're allies doesn't mean we're friends."

"I'd rather be friends with a dung beetle," Draco assured her.

"If you botch this up, I'll turn you into a dung beetle," she said, muttering the password and disappearing inside the portrait.

**Author's Note: **One epic chapter left and an epilogue. To all the new readers: Welcome! To the people that have grown old like me reading this thing since I started it almost 10 years ago ... thanks for hanging in there. See? Told ya I'd never give up on this story! Holy shit ... it's really been 10 years! That's a decade! I was just a little teenager ... now, I have a job and pay taxes. When did that happen?

Over the years ... like, actual years since I last posted, I wrote five versions of this chapter. I hope to post some funny remnants when this all over. Would have posted sooner, but after reading the final book and crying nonstop, I put Harry Potter on my bookshelf and went into a mourning period. Anyone else do that? Pretty sure there's no way this chapter could possibly make up for the long wait, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways. Cheers.


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